There's Something Beautiful and Tragic in the Fallout
by Agentsofsuperwholocked
Summary: She didn't want to enter the lab, to pull up the results. She already had a feeling that she knew what they were going to say, but she still hoped that that wouldn't be the case. It still didn't stop her legs from collapsing under her when she saw the results on screen.
1. Chapter 1

**Over on A03, I've been writing this massive fic, and its about half/two-thirds done and I've finally transferring it over to here. It is based on the AOS comics, one of the plot points there but you don't have to be familiar with them to be able to read this. Just a little warning, this one is angsty as heck. Like major angsty. Hope you enjoy and thanks for checking out!**

"Simmons!" came May's voice in her ears, agitation predominant in her voice.

"I know!" came her reply, urgent and full of panic, caused by the countdown that has happening in front of her. She had been trying to disable the bio-weapon that was in front of her, and it was working. However, there was less than a minute for it to take effect but there was also less than a minute until it would detonate, and if it wasn't rendered harmless in time… Jemma shuddered at the thought and willed the process to occur quicker. And if that wasn't bad enough, she was the only one who could. There was no one else to help her. Bobbi would have helped, but when she saw the specifications on the hard drive the Jemma had stolen from Hydra, she just shook her head, not understanding anything. Jemma however, understood the theory behind it. It was the basis of her second doctorate.

"Jemma!" came a second voice. Skye. "We can't hold them off longer! They're breaking through the coding into the room where you are. We're coming to you. Just get that thing disabled."

Jemma could hear the desperation in her voice. No one needed to say what the consequences would be if Jemma failed in this mission. She focused her attention back on the screen build onto the glass container of the bio weapon. The liquid was fading from a dark vivid red to a pale pink. The screen still said it was lethal, and time was running out. If it hadn't changed from its current state to one of non-lethal in the next thirty seconds, then everyone here was at risk, as well as a 50 mile radius (but that number was dropping with each second). She held her breath as the time counted down from fifteen. She had almost done it.

Then she heard it. The banging at the door. The Hydra agents had found the room that she had been holed up in. Alone. She reached back, where the Icer was hidden, tucked into the band of her trousers. She took it out, finger on the trigger when the door gave way. At this point, May would be cursing herself for leaving Jemma alone. It was supposed to go well; all she had to do was to disable the weapon using the inbuilt computer. May, with Trip and Skye had taken out all the surrounding agents before she had been allowed in, then she entered, proceeding to work. But the weapon had remote access and Hydra had detonated it, threatening everyone in the base, even their own agents, just to keep their work hidden. May, and the others had moved on to the room just down the corridor where all the files where kept. Trip had tried to argue to be with her, in case something happened but Jemma told him she was okay, he was needed elsewhere. So he left, taking guard at the stairs at the very end of the corridor, preventing any agents of Hydra from reaching them.

Jemma shrunk back, there were 10 seconds until detonation and it was so close to being rendered harmless. It was a waiting game now. If Hydra had detonated it just seconds after they had, then it would have already been safe. It wouldn't be down to chance now. 9, 8, 7. All she had to do was wait for everyone else to come, 6, 5, 4 (it was almost there, almost rendered harmless), then she could leave, and then she would be heading back to the safety of the base, 3,2... At least, that was supposed to be the plan. The Hydra agents set off a weapon of some sort, hitting the glass container and shattering it. The blast sent her flying, and she hit off against the wall, her head pounding and the world swaying in front of her.

"Jemma!" a voice rang out that sounded somewhat familiar. Skye. There were no longer any Hydra agents standing in the room. May and Trip must have taken them out, as they were now looking at the remains of the bioweapon. The weapon was harmless, a computer that had also been linked to it was now showing this information. It was flashing that the weapon was disabled. She had did it. She allowed herself a smile, and then realised that she was slumped on the floor. She sat up, leaning against the wall. "Jemma!" came Skye's voice, close this time. Jemma moved her head to find Skye kneeling before her, a look of slight disgust upon her face. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Jemma looked long and hard at her trying to find the words. She must have blacked out, not seeing what had transpired in front of her as the room in front of her was now so very different from the one she remembered. "I think so, just a bump to the head, nothing much." She looked down and saw the chemicals that had made up the weapon, now a harmless pale pink, was splattered along her tact suit, parts of it torn from the shards of glass that had sliced it. "Oh this, it's not harmful. It will need to be examined then incinerated. Health and safety, you never can be too careful." Jemma smiled up at her friend, before wiping her hand on her top and taking the hand that Skye had extended out to you. Worry was still laced under all her features, but she was trying to hide it.

"Thanks," Jemma said, absent-mindly scratching at her wrist. "So what now."

"Now," May said, looking at her. "We clear up in here."

Clearing up hadn't been as much of a tedious process that Skye had imagined it would be. Back at base, she was flicking through the documents that Coulson had asked her and Trip to examine but these weren't related to the mission they had been on that day. These were related to the cravings that everything kept coming back to.

She gave a groan of frustration. _This_ work was tedious. She had been looking at it for the last number of hours, but still none of it made any sense to any of them.

"Drink?" a voice asked. Male. British. Hunter.

"We're working," Skye replied but she was tempted. She was so tempted. "We can't drink on the job."

"You won't be drinking on the job. Coulson's off base, and you've been working for hours, and you had that mission." Still Skye looked unconvinced so Hunter used what he hoped would draw Skye to the common area. "Jemma's joining us."

"She is?" Skye asked, rising. Hunter was probably right. It was best they take a break, and go back to this with a fresh head. Would make everything so much easier to understand. Also Jemma was there, and since she had come back from Hydra, things were awkward to say the least. Her and Fitz weren't on the best terms, and she was withdrawn. She had raised her concerns to May, but May had said that she had a handle on it, that she was looking out for the other agent. Skye, who was still hesitant to trust after everything that had happened, just hoped that this was the case.

"Coming?" Hunter asked with a lopsided grin.

And he was right. Jemma was indeed there, as was Fitz, but they weren't sitting together. They weren't even sitting on the same sofa. Skye really needed to get them to talk to each other about what had happened. There was so much miscommunication between both of them, and no matter how hard Skye had tried, she had yet to succeed. But she would, maybe tonight would be the night.

Jemma gave a nervous looking smile as Skye sat down next to her, still scratching at her wrist. Skye looked down at it but Jemma told her not to worry, that it was just a reaction to the new hand cream that she had tested, that hopefully it should go away soon.

Skye nodded, feeling relieved at this, but couldn't help but worry that there was something more sinister behind it.

"See," Hunter said loudly, gesturing to the other young Brit. "Told you she'd be here."

Jemma laughed, something that caused heads to turn to face her. Even Fitz. It was a sound that they hadn't heard in so long, but it still sounded forced. Skye directed her attention to Trip then, who wore an expression that said it's something. "He used me as the winning argument then."

Skye nodded. "Would have continued to work if you weren't here."

"You'll have to go back. I'm heading back to the lab in about five minutes. I'm running some tests from the weapon earlier, have to see what they say."

Skye saw Fitz shift uneasily at this. Judging from this, it was evident that he wasn't helping, but when was the last time he had helped Jemma in the lab since she came back? He had been helping Mack in the garage more and more.

"I better head," Jemma continued, picking up on his unease. It was clear she hadn't wanted to be here. She had probably been told by Hunter that _Skye_ was going to be there.

"Jemma," Skye called after her. She paused at the door, turning back to face the room.

"Yeah?"

Skye shook her head. "Nothing."

She didn't want to enter the lab, to pull up the results. She already had a feeling that she knew what they were going to say, but she still hoped that that wouldn't be the case.

Jemma, however, knew that hoping wouldn't delay the inevitable. She knew what was wrong, and what would happen. She knew that wishing that it wasn't true wasn't going to make it untrue but working would help make it untrue.

It still didn't stop her legs from collapsing under her when she saw the results on screen.

 **Every day for the next week and a half this shall be updated, and then updated as it gets updated on A03. It has a Pinterest board under the same name under my profile (Agentsofsuperwholocked) so feel free to check both out. The title comes from Miss Jackson by P!ATD. Hope you enjoyed!**


	2. Chapter 2

**This fic gets even more angst-y from here on out, kinda dark in some parts. I wanna say a massive thank you for all the support with chapter 1! It really put a smile on my face. I hope that you enjoy this chapter as much!**

A month. That's all she had left. One month left to live. She hoped she had longer. She _thought_ she had longer than this. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. She knew she had been infected, the mark on her wrist that had not stopped itching had been evident of that. Along with the periods of extreme dizziness that had been plaguing her all day.

But a month seemed like too short a period of time. There had to be something that she was missing. Jemma closed her eyes, trying to think about what had happened. She had been disabling the weapon, when Hydra had broken through and shot it. It was still lethal, just barely, but still lethal, but she hadn't know it was still dangerous when Hydra had shot it. But she had tested the substance, she could even make it harmless now, back here in the lab. The chemical to counteract it hadn't had a chance to be fully effective and then the glass container had been destroyed and the substance, still lethal, still dangerous, thrown all over her…

Then Skye had helped her. Skye. Skye had been in contact with her. Skye could be infected. That was the only contact that she had had with a team member until she had taken a shower, to rid herself of the substance that was now poisoning her. Skye could be infected. And it would be all her fault.

Jemma pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around her them, resting her head on her knees. But she didn't cry. She wouldn't allow herself to cry. She had to solve this. She was the only one who was able to. No one else even understood it.

She steadied her breath, and stood, feeling a stab of pain in her side. Rolling her shirt up, she saw a cut, with discoloured skin around it. And everything started to make sense to her. That's how this had infected her. She allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. Skye wouldn't be infected. She had been wearing gloves, they all had been. She would be safe. But to be sure, Jemma would take a sample of her blood to be safe. If the team were at risk, she would never be able to forgive herself.

Even when they had been cleaning up earlier, she had made sure everyone had been wearing hazmat suits. Her team where her priority, keeping them safe was all she wanted to do. And in a month, she couldn't. She would be gone and unable to protect them anymore.

Shutting down the lid of her laptop (she hadn't used the lab's computers, she didn't want the team to find out. There was no cure, and she didn't want their pity. Coulson would make her leave the team, and she only had one place left to go… home. And she couldn't face them. Not now, not like this, and anyway, she had said the substance was harmless when it covered her, as only a slight bending of the truth. She _had_ thought it harmless at the time, until the symptoms had started to appear. What would they say if she told them she had been wrong, and that she was now dying?), she leaned against the table, hands splayed, trying to figure out what her next step would be.

"Simmons." May. She spun around to face the older agent. She smiled up, hoping that she would be able to mask her thoughts behind a smile, even though May was exceptional at being able to read emotions and body language, no matter how well you thought you were hiding how you truly felt. May looked over her shoulder, at the computer that wasn't switched on, then down at Jemma's laptop.

"Oh that," Jemma said a fraction of a second too late. "My log in wasn't working." She shrugged. "I need to ask Skye to look at it." She slid the laptop of the desk and positioning it under her arm. It wasn't exactly a lie. She had locked herself out, then worked on her own device. That way her work wasn't being saved to the S.H.I.E.L.D. servers. May frowned, folded her arms. Her body language screamed that information was being left out of this conversation. Jemma looked up at her, eyes wide and pleading before May stepped out of the way and allowed the young scientist to leave.

May watched her go. There was something about her. Something she wasn't saying. And knowing Jemma she wouldn't. She would keep it bottled up until it was too late. May just hoped that they would be able to help her in time.

When Jemma got back to her bunk, ensuing that the door was locked behind her, she didn't want any more disturbances. She made her way to her bed, opening the laptop and sitting cross legged. She ran the test again, wanting to ensure that what had come around the time previous was scientific fact and not just by chance.

But it still said a month. That she had a month left to live. She shut down her laptop, placing it under her bed, and curled up on her side, truly allowing that knowledge to sink in.

A month, to most seemed like such a long time; a month until that dream holiday, a month until that movie, concert whatever was happening, a month until marriage, but to her it wasn't. Jemma's stomach churned, now none of that would be happening to her. Everything she wanted to do in life, she couldn't.

What would her parents think? Skye? Fitz…

Fitz. Oh Fitz, would he ever be able to forgive her for not telling him about this? They told each other everything, well they used. Tensions were high between the two of them now, ever since she arrived back from Hydra. He had the wrong idea about why she left, he had thought she left because she didn't recuperate his feelings and because she couldn't handle his change but he was so wrong. She did love him back, did want to see what their relationship would be like as more than friends and she didn't care what had happened to him. She wouldn't let his injury define him at all. She had left because she was the one who wasn't allowing him to make any progression. Everyone on the team had seen it, they just didn't have the heart to tell her. And she wasn't sure which was worse.

Mack, however, who had only known Fitz a short period time, and her even shorter, could even see just what an impact that she was having on Fitz, and he had the heart to say it to her. It had hurt, stung at the time, but she was glad that someone had said it, confirmed that her worst fears were indeed fact and not just something that she was actually imagining.

And now she had a month left to explain this to him, a month to tell him just how much she loved him, just how much he meant to her. But if things continued like they did, then it seemed she wouldn't be able to. That maybe after so many years together, their friendship had just fallen apart, irreparable now, regardless of both of their scientific knowledge bases.

Sitting up again, she felt that itch in her wrist, the tell-tale features of a rash now forming there. This made her curious. If the site of infection had been at her side, then why was her wrist itching? She bit her lip thinking, wondering. And then she broke down for the first time, taking a deep shaking breath. It seemed already to be beginning. The symptoms earlier should have indicated that to her, but she hadn't been able to think clearly, hadn't been able to think straight all day. And from here on out, it would only be getting worse. She knew what would happen to her, every single moment.

She removed that thought from her mind, and reached for a notebook. There was something that she needed to write.

 **Like I'm so sorry for this, but ever since I read the plot in the comics I have wanted to fic it into TV Canon and so this was born. I hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I have gotten so much support for this fic, and I wanna use this AN to say a massive thanks! It puts a massive smile on my face!**

Skye rolled her sleeve down, her eyes watching Jemma as she worked her way around the lab. "How many more days?"

"Hmmm?" Jemma asked, clearly not having heard the question, her mind elsewhere.

"How many more samples?" Skye crossed her legs on the stool in the lab. It was only the two of them. Jemma had been demanding that she take more blood samples, saying that both her and Coulson had been injected with the GH-325 and so had Garrett, who had started the carvings. All evidence (that they had available) indicated that both the carvings and the GH-325 were somehow connected, but neither Skye nor Coulson had started carving. And this made Jemma think, wondering what caused it. The blood sample she had just taken was the third in a row that week.

"Oh, four more days."

"Great," Skye replied, glad that it would only be four more samples taken. "Just leave me some blood," she joked on the way out of the lab. Jemma didn't reply, too observed in gaining the results from the tests that she was preparing for.

Jemma did not know how many times she checked the results but it seemed that Skye wasn't infected. That it was just her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard a voice behind her.

"Agent Simmons." It was May. She spun in her chair to face the older agent.

"Yes?"

May, standing with her arms crossed and leaning against the door frame to the lab. "Did you forget?"

Jemma scrunched up her face in confusion, trying to remember what today was. She was so lost in everything that had happened in the past few days that whatever May was saying was supposed to happen, it must have simply slipped her mind.

"Your training?" May finally said and Jemma felt the realisation of remembrance flow through her. Of course it was that. Ever since she had been told that she would be going undercover in Hydra, May had been providing her with lessons on self-defence, both with a weapon and in hand to hand combat.

"Oh." That made more sense to her now. She swung back around to look at the time on the computer. 3:12pm. She was over ten minutes later. "Sorry," she began as she turned to face May again. "I was finishing off here…"

May raised one shoulder in a half a shrug, accepting the answer. Everyone knew that Jemma had a tendency to over work herself and forget about time. "Just meet me in the training room when you're ready." And before Jemma could reply, May had already left.

May offered her a hand, which Jemma accepted and rose to her feet again, panting slightly. Training with May was not something that could be taken lightly, and it always left her feeling exhausted more often than not. But she would have the skills to defend herself. She wouldn't allow anyone to hurt her again. Or, what she saw as more important, anyone that she loved again. If she could protect them, keep them from harm and no one would ever have to suffer any more, not if she could help it. Or at least, that's why she started. Now she wouldn't be able to defend her friends, people she classed as family for much longer.

"You're tensing up, and not using all the power," May gave by way of explanation as she handed the young Brit a water bottle. Jemma took it with a nod of thanks, unscrewing the lid and drinking most of the liquid.

She felt hot, sticky and sweaty. Her hair was pulled up into a pony tail, strands now falling loose and sticking to her forehead. Setting the nearly empty bottle down, she got back into the stance, and listened as May gave her one last piece of advice. "Don't hold back. You're scared of hurting me. Don't be."

Jemma nodded, and reached back and punched. It didn't land. May caught her fist before it could do any damage, and twisted her arm back. Painfully. Jemma tried to keep it of her face but she knew that there would be no hiding it from May.

Jemma couldn't free her grasp from May's fist. So she tried swiping May's legs out from her, and immediately lost her balance. It wasn't long before May was pining her to the ground. For the tenth time that lesson (Jemma had been counting).

May released her, and walked away, getting water for herself. "You're getting better."

"I am?" Jemma asked, now sitting, knees drawn up to her chest, taking huge heaving breaths. She was exhausted and she didn't want to continue. No more for today. But she couldn't help think and wonder how many of these lessons she had left. Just how many would she be able to do before her body made it impossible? Before it failed on her?

May nodded. "You underestimate yourself. Train with Skye and Bobbi. Trip even. Learn different fighting styles. Learn to adapt to whatever you may face. You're becoming used to my style. It's good, you're learning how to block, how to counter but most opponents won't be like me."

And with that she was gone.

Later that night, after Jemma had showed and was out of her work out clothes, she sat curled up on one of the sofas. Skye had persuaded her to come tonight, along with Bobbi. She had been working on her laptop in her room, trying to find out _just_ what would happen to her, in what order and how. It was morbid research, finding out the order that everything would give up on her. About how long and painful the next four weeks would be on her.

"Come on!" Skye had begged, with Bobbi standing behind her in the doorway. "You've been locked up in here every night. Have some fun! It's Friday! Most of the team will be there."

Jemma had eventually give in, thinking that it would be nice to give the team, her friends, her family memories of happier times.

So that was how she was now curled up on the sofa, well the armchair to herself. Fitz was with Hunter and Mack (she tried not to show just how much that hurt her, but she wasn't sure if she was succeeding), listening to stories from Trip about his grandfather's time in the Howling Commando's, nursing a bottle of beer. The majority of the conversation flowed over her head. She was there more for the company.

"So Jemma," came a voice. Hunter. "Any stories to tell?"

She met looked up, and tried to think. Most of her stories, the one that meant the most to her where with Fitz. But she didn't know what one to tell. Would Fitz be annoyed if she said anything? Would he be annoyed if she _didn't_?

She was about to speak when Skye spoke. "The cat liver. We've heard you and Fitz talk about it. But we need to know more."

Fitz looked at her, and for once, she couldn't understand what he was thinking. She always knew what he was thinking and she didn't like this. Not knowing what he was thinking. Which posed the question: what would he think if she told the story?

It used to be their think, a joke shared between the two of them. Something that no-one else knew off. She bit her lip, stalling for time when Hunter spoke again.

"Trying to eat here!" he complained, reaching for a handful of crisps and shoving them in his mouth.

Laughter filled the room, taking the tension away and for once, Jemma allowed herself to relax.

"You're worried about her?" Coulson asked, still looking at the file that he was reading.

She frowned, and only crossed her arms. Of course she was worried about Jemma after all that had happened.

Coulson sighed, and set down the file that he was reading. He looked up at May, who was glaring down at him. He knew that she cared for the younger woman. "What do you think we should do? She wouldn't accept Andrew's help when we recommended it to her."

May clearly had this though out. "We talk to her. She trusts us. She needs us, more than she thinks she does."

Coulson gave another heavy sigh. "Is she having difficulty readjusting back into the team?"

May gave a brief nod. Jemma _had_ been having difficulties adjusting back to the team, despite what she had been saying. She _had_ been isolating herself from everyone, preferring the comfort of her own room, and her own company. May was worried the reason behind this. She was nervous someone had said something to her, something about the delicate relationship that currently existed between her and Fitz. She didn't say it aloud, but May could tell she blamed herself for everything that had happened and carried the weight of everything on her shoulders. "She's locking herself away. She prefers her own company."

May needed to say no more. "Keep an eye on her, bring any worries to me." Then he went back to his file. Hydra intel she supposed.

May left, her worries for Jemma only increasing.

 **So May is worried! Dun dun dun! I really love the idea of a bond between her and Jemma, but we never get enough of in canon. And I hope the training scene worked out as I've never really written anything like that before. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed**


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a week now since she had received that death sentence. A week had passed and now she three weeks left. Less than a month left. And it terrified her. She knew what would be coming in the next number of weeks. She knew the hell that she would go through. She knew everything. But she still hadn't told anyone. She couldn't. She didn't want their pity. She didn't want to be treated differently.

The boiling of the kettle knocked her out of thoughts. She sighed, reaching for it and pouring it into two mugs. Her favourite mug, a simple mug with flowers on it. It had been a Christmas gift from Fitz, in fact it had been the first present that he had ever brought her, and still to this day did she use the mug. And the second was a TARDIS mug. Fitz's. One that she had gotten him after he had smashed the mug his mum gave him for moving away. She bit her lip as she put in the third tea spoon of sugar into the cup. She hoped that Fitz would take it. They hadn't been talking, let alone looking at each other.

She took both mugs once she knew that they had been brewed to perfection and headed to the lab, where Fitz and Mack both where. She took a breath and headed in.

"Fitz," she said, and she knew her voice was shaking. He looked up from the screen that he and Mack were staring at. "I made you a mug of tea…" she trailed off, setting it down on the desk beside him and made a way to her desk.

He watched her as she made her way across the room, and sat down at her own desk. Then he turned his attention to the mug and Jemma thought that he was going to take it but then.

He shook his head, pushing away from the desk. "I've had a mug already morning."

Mack stood also, looking between the two young scientists. He focused his gaze finally upon Fitz and seemed to scream at him to do something about the situation. But Fitz didn't seem to notice his expression, or care altogether. "Mack and I were going to the garage anyway."

And with that Fitz was gone, no thank you, no nothing. And as much as it pained her, stung, she knew that she deserved it. She didn't deserve any kindness from him. Mack shrugged at her on the way out, as if in some form of apology. And then she was alone.

In the garage, before work even began, Mack finally found his voice. He could see that whatever was between the two young scientists was breaking both of their hearts, despite the exteriors that they were currently showing: Fitz, one that didn't care, one that showed resent and bitterness while Simmons had distanced herself, trying to show that it didn't bother her when Mack knew that it did. And what made it worse was the fact that both people placed the blame on her, when she didn't deserve it.

"Are you going to talk to her?" Mack decided that this was the safest way to start.

Fitz spun round, facing him. He couldn't help but wonder what had prompted Mack to ask this. Up until now, it seemed, Mack had taken his side whenever it had come to whatever had happened in the past between now and Jemma, and now he seemed to be taking her side? Had he been too harsh on her in the lab? He shook his head, trying to think. No, he hadn't, had he? And if he had, what did it matter anyway? He hadn't been the one to leave their best friend in the time that they needed them most.

Instead of saying this (because he really couldn't bring himself to, it felt just too horrible to say it aloud), he shook his head.

Mack took a deep breath in, held it for a second and then let it out. Fitz hazarded a guess that Mack was keeping something from him, something that he was no longer a stranger to now. "You should talk to her."

Fitz stared at him. He had told Mack everything. He had told him what had happened in the pod, about how he told Jemma how he felt, how she couldn't handle his change. How she lied to him and ran. And now he wanted him to talk to her? About what? Whatever it was, it didn't matter. If Jemma couldn't handle what had happened to him, then she wasn't as good a friend as he thought she was. She didn't love him like he had (did) her. "It doesn't matter," Fitz said, turning away and attempting to find something to work on. He wasn't going to have the discussion. Not here. Not now.

"Has she even told you why she left?"

"No." It's not like he didn't know the reason. Everyone on the base knew the reason, she didn't have the courage to say it aloud.

Mack sighed. "You should talk to her. Whatever you think the reason she left is, that isn't it."

Fitz didn't reply, but he couldn't help the fact that the words that Mack said to him lingered in his head, making him wonder if there was a different motive behind her leaving.

The itch on her wrist was back, one of the first symptoms that had alerted her to the fact that something was wrong. Now, having researched, she knew what was happening. Every cell in her body was dying, her body's ability to replace the cells by mitosis slowly fading. Of course, not her cells had been impacted in one go (they would have been had the weapon been fully effective). The process took time to occur, the cells already damaged, already weak were the ones to be the first to fail. A rash was forming on her wrist, and it was slowly travelling up her arm. She knew it wasn't the dead cells that where causing the reaction, but the chemical reaction with her immune system, her body. She knew that she couldn't hide it much longer, and if anyone got suspicious, like Skye had at first, she couldn't keep saying it was her hand cream. She needed a new lie, a new way to twist the truth.

She was still scratching at it, while reading through the data on the carvings. She still hadn't figured out what they meant. They looked like crude chemical diagrams, or a circuit boards. But if they were, they couldn't be that old then, could they?

"Simmons."

She spun in her seat at the voice. Bobbi was making her way into the lab. Jemma raised an eyebrow. "Bobbi. How are you?" She was wondering what the blonde was doing in here. Had May asked her to help with Jemma's training? Had Coulson asked her to help in the lab? Was she worried about her?

Bobbi replied with a smile, and pulled a stool up beside Jemma. "Coulson has asked us to look at the weapon Hydra created, try to come up with a possible cure."

Jemma sighed, and faced Bobbi. "But that's the thing, that's why Hydra created it. It can't be cured. It destroys cells, they can't be replaced. The body shuts down." She shook her head. It felt weird saying it aloud. And not related to her. It felt as though this were simply a task that had been assigned to her by Coulson, and not something in anyway related to her life. But then, wasn't that how her research on the Chitauri virus started something that had been something simply assigned to her by Coulson and then turned into a task that had left her looking for something to save her life.

"You know once brain cells are dead, they're dead?" Jemma said, a sadness in her eyes. She hoped this would get it across to Bobbi, that the weapon made all cells in the body act like brain cells, unable to be replaced.

Bobbi nodded, she had knowledge of this, but she knew that Jemma's knowledge would be vast. Not only had she gained one of doctorates using this knowledge, her best friend, her other half has first-hand experience of this.

"We can find a way, can't we?" Bobbi asked, reaching for a piece of paper and jotting down all that they so far knew.

Jemma bit her lip and thought. There was something she had been thinking off, it couldn't stop it permanently, but it could slow things down, maybe buy her some more time. But that was all dependent on whether it could be developed in time. "We could," she began, hesitating before she continued to speak. "Find something that could counteract it, stop it from being able to act on the cells. Allow them to be able to divide by mitosis. It might not be able to get rid of the chemical altogether, but it could be administered on a regular basis so it doesn't allow time for the chemical to act."

Bobbi gave her a massive grin, glad to have gotten something out of the young scientist. May had come to her, voicing worries, but she had been given strict instructions not to say or do anything that may alert Jemma that they were trying to find something out, something that Jemma had thought was best kept a secret. "So, how long do you think that would take?"

Jemma just started at her, thinking that surely Bobbi couldn't be serious? She had a doctorate as well, she knew just how long it would take to even develop the first formula that could even been trailed. "Months," was all she said, her voice going soft. That's when it hit her. Finally. That there wasn't going to be anything that could save her. Nothing that could even prolong it. She had three weeks left, twenty one days. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing.

Bobbi shrugged as if it were nothing. "Are you, or are you not Dr. Dr. Jemma Simmons, two doctorates by, what seventeen and managed to find a cure to the Chitauri virus within hours?"

Holding back tears, Jemma nodded. "I am."

 **First of, I apologise, for both the biological knowledge, that is very probably wrong, Geography is what I study and all, and for all the angst. I hated writing angry!Fitz at Jemma, it really hurt me. I just really struggled with that part due to the dynamics that I had to work with. Thanks for all the support you guys give me! Makes me smile!**


	5. Chapter 5

The beginning of the second week brought more symptoms for her: migraines, a lack of sleep, yet more difficulty eating and a cold sweat that came and went, that was hard to disguise. Her body ached. It was getting harder to train with May now. She was spending more and more time on the ground. May was letting her off easy, she thought, the lessons now not as long and May not forcing her to work as hard. Jemma was worried if May was suspicious, if May _knew_ something but if she did decide to question her on it, if anyone questioned her on it, she could simply say she was coming down with something, the flu perhaps. It was coming up to that time of year anyway.

She sighed as she got out of the shower, drying herself and began pulling on a blouse. As she did so, she inspected her torso as she so frequently did now. The site of infection was still as it had been, not healing, still discoloured. But now the poison that was in her blood, flowing through her was showing through her skin, going more translucent as the days passed. Spider webs of purple crisscrossed across her torso. She reached out, running her finger down on of her veins that was prominent and winced, drawing her fingers away. It was sensitive to touch. It hadn't been like that before. In fact, this was something that she had only discovered this morning. She made a mental note to jot it down later, in the evening when she was looking at the data yet again on her laptop.

She sighed again, and left her room, ready to start her day.

Bobbi was already in the lab, reading over data when she arrived. She looked up when she heard Jemma enter and smiled at her.

"Morning," Jemma greeted, pulling up a chair beside her and set her mug down on the desk. "Have you gotten anywhere?"

Bobbi shook her head, and flicked a page. They were currently only using notes and simulations on the computer. Coulson's orders. He had asked them not to use any of the resources (resources he classed as valuable and in short supply) until they knew they could get something, anything, to counter act the weapon that Hydra had created. "No further than we were yesterday."

Jemma let her shoulders sink. They had gotten _somewhere_ yesterday. They were able to create the basis of a formula that would help turn the mitotic divisions of a cell back on. But it lasted a few hours, meaning that multiple injections would be needed to ensure that it worked. And then, after a while, it stopped working, ceasing to be effective and those infected would eventually die.

But that had been the furthest they had gotten in the number of days that they had started working on it, since the second week of the infection began. That's how Jemma had started thinking of her time now. In weeks. They were four days into her second week and already she felt worse than she ever had in her life. Worse than when she did when she had been infected almost a year ago now by the Chitauri virus.

She shuddered, thinking about that.

Bobbi looked over at her, frowning.

Jemma froze, panic coursing through her. She had to think of something, anything to get Bobbi off her trail. "It's horrible," she began, hoping her tone and her body language wasn't going to give it away. "What it does to you."

Bobbi nodded in agreement, and seemed to take Jemma's answer. "That's why we're here, isn't it?" She nudged Jemma with her arm.

The next few days passed with little difference. Helping with Bobbi in the lab, training with May when she could. Meals where spent usually by herself, sometimes she was joined by Skye or Trip, but not that often.

Which she was thankful for. She couldn't eat that much to begin with, and she didn't want anyone worrying. They had more to be worrying about. And if they were suspected that something was wrong with her… well she didn't want to consider that. There were worse things to worry about than her. There was Hydra, those carvings, Skye's father.

She was playing with her food, her fork swirling the pasta around and around and doing little else when there was a knock on the kitchen door. She looked up, and saw that Trip was standing there. She smiled up at him, wondering whether he would be coming to join her. And then her heart sank. She realised that one of these days, in maybe ten, possibly more, possibly less, would be her last with him. He was an amazing friend. He supported her throughout those long nine days, and in the days that followed, and if he was angry at her for leaving to go undercover, well he didn't show it.

He returned the smile. "Briefing in ten."

"What for?" she asked. Had there been a mission come up? Was she really fit enough to do a mission? To leave base? She hadn't trained with May that day, her chest had been tight. She had barely been able to stand, let alone train. The symptoms had died down, thankfully, with the help of some painkillers and she wasn't swaying as much as she had when she was standing.

"Supply run. An old base has been found. He thought it could have supplies that could be useful to the lab"

"And Coulson wants me to go?"

Trip nodded. "You, May and Hunter are going."

Jemma nodded accepting this. She knew that she was one of the most qualified to be going on this supply run. She would know what she was looking for. But she found it odd that the others who were also more than suitably qualified did not seem to be going. "Is Bobbi going? Fitz?"

Trip shook his head at that. "He wants Fitz in the garage with Mack, they're working on designs to help upgrade the QuinJets, and Bobbi is still working on that cure."

Jemma nodded at this, trying to keep the hurt from her face. She wanted one of them to come with her. It's not that she didn't get on with May and Hunter, it's just that May never spoke that much, and Hunter she barely knew. "Thanks."

Trip nodded, leaving her to continue twirling the pasta around her fork.

"You can't let her go."

The director heaved a sigh, waiting for Bobbi to elaborate.

"She's ill." Coulson knew she wasn't wrong. There had been something different about Jemma these last few weeks.

Coulson still remained silent, not knowing what to say to this. A number of agents had been ill anyway at this time of year, he had been signing so many sick forms that he now knew the wording of them by heart.

"I think, sir, that she's been infected."

Coulson's face turned grave at this. "That mission was what, three weeks ago?"

A nod.

"She's been displaying symptoms similar to the flu," Bobbi explained. "As well as the rash on her arm. Sir, I don't thinks she's going to tell us anything. You've seen how she's been, not eating, withdrawing herself. I don't think you should let her go."

"Agent Morse," Coulson began and Bobbi could tell by the tone of his voice that something was wrong, something was really wrong. "I would make her stay on base, except she's already left."

"How long?"

Coulson looked at the clock. "No more than two and a half hours."

Bobbi stared at Coulson in horror. They had to bring Jemma back as soon as possible. If anything happened to her. If she was injured, if something happened to her, her body wouldn't be able to cope. There was no telling what would happen. Her cells were dying, unable to heal themselves. Even the smallest injury at this point could prove to be fatal. "Sir," Bobbi said, more urgently this time. "She needs to be here. Now."

Coulson listened, his expression growing graver as he listened to more and more of what Bobbi say. "What do you think we should do once she returns to base?"

Bobbi took a deep breath. "We put her in medical. Until we find something that can help her, until she's deemed fit to work. Coulson, she needs our help."

Coulson nodded, reaching for the phone and picked it up, calling May. He spoke in a hushed tone, the conversation hurried, and when he looked back up, his face was now ashen.

"It's Hydra. They've been ambushed."

 **And with that cliff hanger, I end this chapter. I want to say a massive thank you for all the support for this fic, I would be unable to do it without you guys! Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm so sorry.**

The pain in her chest was back, and getting worse with every passing moment due to the painkillers now wearing off. And she hadn't thought to bring more with her. The tightness restricting her every breath. But she couldn't let Hunter and May know that something was wrong. If they suspected that she were unwell, if they knew she was dying, they would turn The Bus back around and take her back to base, and place her in medical. They risked losing out on the supplies that may prove vital to them.

She was sitting in the lounge, that was once home to so many good memories, times spent as a team, relaxing between the missions. But now all those memories had been tainted with betrayal, and there were no more times like that.

"We're nearly there," came a voice from the doorway. She looked up, having been knocked out of her thoughts. Hunter was standing there. "May wants to talk to you before we land."

Jemma nodded, trying her hardest to look like she was okay, and wondering how it would go. Hunter and May were highly trained agents, and they might be able to see through her lies. However, she had been undercover at Hydra and her ability to lie was improving.

Hunter seemed to be waiting for her, so she stood. And as soon as she was standing, the world spun, listing dangerous and she nearly lost her balance. Hunter made his way towards her but she managed to regain her balance before his hand was on her shoulder.

"You okay?" he seemed to be asking, but it took her a moment to realise what he was saying but then she nodded, taking deep breaths.

"Just…" she took a pause and then. "Head rush. Stood up too quickly."

Hunter had no reply. He just stared at her as if he were trying to figure out what was really happening to her.

"Where are we meeting May?" Jemma asked, changing the subject.

Hunter stuttered over his answer and followed Jemma to where they would be meeting her.

Entering the abandoned lab, Jemma followed slightly behind. The other two had guns raised, they weren't taking any chances here. But the facility seemed to be abandoned and the three of them were the only ones there.

Making their way slowly through the corridors, they took a left, and right followed by two more lefts before approaching a lab. The two large steel doors were opened, inviting them into the lab.

And Jemma set to work immediately, searching in all the cupboards for supplies that they could use back on base. But so far, she had found nothing. There wasn't anything of use in any of these cupboards. There wasn't anything in them at all.

"Hunter," she called out, and he looked to her from his place by the door. "Would you search for through the cupboards on the far side of the room?"

Hunter turned back to May, who gave a nod, and Hunter made his way to the far side, and flung open the cupboard doors. "Anything you're looking for in particular?" he asked.

Jemma shrugged, not knowing that Hunter couldn't see her. After a brief moment of silence Jemma realised that Hunter still hadn't received an answer. "Anything that might prove to be useful."

There was some muttering that Jemma couldn't understand but she wasn't sure if she wanted to understand it anyway.

After searching through some more cupboards and a few drawers, she found that they were also empty. There seemed to be nothing here in the lab, and judging from the curses coming across the room, Hunter seemed to be also experiencing the same problem.

By the time she had reached the store door at the end of the room, she still hadn't found anything and was going to call back to May that there wasn't anything, that it had been a false call, when she looked up and found someone looking back down at her.

Someone she had never seen before.

She had long blonde hair, not as light as Bobbi's and her figure was tall, thin and there was something graceful about the way she held herself. She didn't look dangerous, harmful.

Except that she was flanked by five Hydra operatives. All of whom had their guns pointed directly at Jemma.

The next few moments were a blur of gunshots, shouting and some cursing from Hunter. She didn't remember much, just one moment she was in front of the store door, looking up at the six people staring down at her, and the next she was hidden under a lab table, her breathing laboured.

His breathing was also laboured and it was only then that Jemma finally realised that Hunter was holding his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers.

"Here," she whispered, immediately adapting a stern voice, one she used in situations like this, while also hoping they wouldn't be caught, and reached into her pack, pulling out a clotting agent.

He removed his hand, allowing her to work. "You'll need stitches once you get back to base, this should help stop the bleeding until then."

He nodded, thanking her. "We need to get out of here."

"Where there only the six of them?"

A nod. "Five armed, and one powered."

"The woman?" Jemma asked. If they were with Hydra, then this was new. This was not something she heard off before.

Another nod from Hunter. "We need to leave now." He heaved himself out from under the table, lifting his weapon and Jemma followed.

She barely had time to react to Hunter calling her name before she felt a sharp pain across the side of her face. The woman's fist had made contact with her jaw, and sent a sharp pain through it, knocking Jemma back. She wavered slightly on her feet, trying to regain her balance as the other woman approached, looked determined.

Hunter raised his gun but there was a chance he'd hit Jemma, and that was a risk he was not prepared to take.

And May was busy with fighting the last three remained Hydra agents.

Leaving Jemma alone in her fight. A fight that didn't last long. Jemma tried to hold her own but with the growing tightness in her chest and the waves of dizziness that had now joined her, all energy had left her and it only took the woman to raise her knee and hit Jemma in the side before she collapsed.

Hunter came running towards but was thrown back against the far wall by the woman simply raising her hand. In these moments of chaos, it gave Jemma a chance to back away, but not towards safety, towards the door, but further into the chaos.

"Jemma Simmons," she said, in a tone that implied Jemma knew her. Her face wasn't familiar, at all. Did she review her file at all during her undercover work in Hydra?

She took a few steps towards Jemma but then stumbled back, as though overwhelmed. It was this movement that gave it away, revealed to Jemma who she really was.

"Aurora."

The blonde woman, Aurora, smiled at this. "So you figured it out. May I ask, what gave it away?"

Jemma closed her eyes, wincing through the pain. Judging from it, she had at least three broken ribs, not mentioning the split lip she currently had. "You backed away from me. I know your powers. Able to read energies, moods, auras."

Aurora nodded again. "And yours is a mess. Why is that Jemma Simmons? Why is your whole body screaming in agony? And not just because of me?"

Jemma looked up at her, and Aurora could tell just how much pain she was in. Jemma said nothing, trying not to. Hunter and May were now staring at her. All the other Hydra operatives were down, leaving just Aurora standing.

"You're dying, Jemma Simmons, aren't you?"

"Yes." Jemma's voice was small, broken, defeated. She dipped her head, not wanting to look at anything or anyone anymore.

"And how long do you have left Jemma Simmons?"

"Days." Jemma didn't see Hunter's or May's reaction to this. Didn't see the look of pity that he gave her or the colour drain from May's face.

"And have you told him that you love him?"

Jemma shook her head. "How can I? He hates me."

"Tell him, Jemma Simmons. Tell him you love him. I can feel it. Don't die not letting him know you love him. Don't lose him as I've lost someone Jemma Simmons."

"You've lost someone?" Jemma asked, knowing she was prying, but not really caring at this point.

"I have Jemma Simmons. I lost the woman I loved. She died. But the difference is she knew that I loved her. Don't let him not know that, Jemma Simmons."

"I'm sorry," was all Jemma could say. "But why Hydra?"

"I was given these gifts through a mist. I don't know why I was chose Jemma Simmons, but I was chosen. And I could sense the pain she was in all the time. It hurt me. And after she died, Hydra said they could help me with these powers. I was in mourning, Jemma Simmons. I would do anything to help take away the pain, no matter how foolish my actions…"

"Let us help you. We're S.H.I.E.L.D. We know powered people. We can help you. We can protect you. Please. Just don't hurt them."

Aurora stared down at her, considering the offer. "One condition, Jemma Simmons. You tell him that you love him."

"It's Hydra. They've been ambushed."

The words rung in Bobbi's head. Hydra. Again.

"But," Coulson said as though there could be something good of this. "They're coming back to base now. There were no supplies, however. It seems that Hydra had set this all up."

"And what about Jemma?"

"She took a few hits. Broken ribs. Split lip. Hunter took a bullet to the shoulder. And they found a powered person."

Bobbi shook her head, knowing she had her work cut out for her. Trip would be able to help but without knowing just what state Jemma was in, Bobbi didn't know what she would be able to do for her yet. "I'll get medical prepped. How long?"

Coulson checked his watch. "Twenty minutes."

Bobbi heaved a sigh. There would just barely be enough time. "Keep Fitz away for now." Was all she said before she left.

Coulson heaved a sigh, and stood up from his desk. He had no idea how he would even begin to keep Fitz away from Jemma in the state she was in. Despite their differences, the problems that they were currently experiencing, he wasn't going to let her suffer alone.

No one was going to let her suffer this alone.

Because they had, up until this point. They failed to notice that one of their team member's was suffering. Had failed to notice what she had been going through. And he blamed himself for this. He had failed to notice that one of his own team members was suffering.

He left his office, hoping to find Mack alone. Without Fitz.

When the Bus landed back at base, Jemma barely noticed. She just didn't feel the comforting hum of the engines anymore.

"Simmons." It was May. She looked up at the older agent, not saying anything, not having the energy to do much else.

May took her in, from her pale complexion, to the sweat on her brow, to the blood red of her lips, to the black bags under her eyes. She wondered how Jemma could have went this long along, carrying this burden without ever telling someone.

She had gotten word from Coulson that Jemma was the priority and that Aurora was to be left in the holding area until Jemma was safely in medical.

May crouched down beside Jemma, and placed one of her arms around her shoulder. Hunter, now noticing what was happening mirrored the movement and were able to help Jemma to her feet. It terrified May just how much that Jemma had deteriorated on the flight back to base.

Once they got her to her feet, getting her somewhere would be difficult. There was no one waiting for them and Jemma needed medical. She was stumbling, barely able to walk, being dragged more than anything.

They had just made it to the end of the ramp when she became a dead weight, dropping instantly. May took control, lowering her to the ground carefully. Hunter stepped back. Watching this was something he didn't want to witness. She didn't deserve to go through this.

"Jemma?" came a voice, breaking through the silence that had settled in the room. Fitz was making his way through the doors, Mack not far behind. You could see the pain cross his face as he saw Jemma lying there, her head resting on May's lap, barely holding on to consciousness.

He didn't stop there though. He made his way towards May and took her place on the floor, holding Jemma close to him.

"Hey," he whispered just loud enough for only her to hear. "Jems."

She looked up at him, or tried to at least. She couldn't keep her eyes open, they kept threatening to roll back into her skull. She looked like she was trying to say something but a coughing fit took over, shaking her small frame, her too small frame.

Fitz sat her up, hoping that would help and wiped away the blood that was trickling down her chin, bright red against skin almost translucent. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered to her, not knowing if the reassurances were false or not. But he thought that false hope was better than no hope at this point. "It's gonna be okay."

"Leo," she whispered, her voice a ghost, barely audible. "I..." She paused, taking a rasping breath, one that rattled in her chest. "Love you."

Then her eyes fluttered shut.

The noise that came from Fitz was truly heart-wrenching, the cry of agony that he gave. His face was now buried in her hair, tears flowing freely as he gently rocked the both of them back and forth.

 **I'm sorry?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Like I am so sorry for the last chapter. This one here deals with the aftermath of it and focuses a lot on the teams views and thoughts.**

"How is he?" Skye heard a voice ask.

She spun, and saw that Hunter was standing there, looking the most sober he had for the past forty eight hours. She shrugged, and brought a sleeve up to her face and wiped away the tears. "Not good. He hadn't left her since she got out of surgery. But Bobbi says…" Skye couldn't finish. She didn't even want to think of what Bobbi had warned off.

"She still in the lab?"

Skye nodded. "She's only left to check on Jemma. But…"

Hunter bit his lip uneasily. "I may have broken into her bunk last night. I wanted to help, to be able to something useful. See if I could find anything."

"And did you?" Skye asked. She didn't want to get her hopes up.

Hunter shrugged, and passed Skye Jemma's laptop. "This and these." Then he revealed a handful of letters that seemed to be addressed to all of them. "I thought maybe that there was something on her laptop but I couldn't get in."

"And you what? Want me to hack it?"

Hunter nodded, and Skye opened the lid, turning it on. She felt a twinge of guilt as she did but she knew she had to do it. It was a matter of life and death, and if Jemma was hiding something on it, something vital… then Bobbi needed to know.

"And the letters?" she asked. She wasn't sure if she wanted to read hers. Not yet anyway.

Hunter shrugged. "I know she would want us to have them, but reading them…"

"It makes it feel real."

Bobbi was getting nowhere. Everything she tried, every simulation had the same outcome. Whatever cure, vaccine, injection, anti-serum, whatever it could be called, all had the same outcome. It would prove effective for a number of months, then cease to work, meaning that death would occur.

Jemma's death.

It wasn't fair. No one it was.

She shouldn't be suffering.

Not like this.

"Bobbi?"

Skye's voice caused her to spin. She was holding a laptop.

Jemma's laptop.

"Is that…" Bobbi asked, wanting to make sure that her presumptions were correct.

Skye nodded. "Hunter got it. Thought there was something useful on it. I went through all her files. Nothing made sense though. To me anyway."

Bobbi took the laptop from her and spent a number of minutes skimming through the files, reading what Jemma had documented, everything she had suffered and went through. And it was just what Bobbi needed.

"Skye…"

Skye felt the knot that had been in her stomach ever since Jemma had collapsed tighten.

"This is just what I needed."

For the first time in over two days, Skye allowed herself to smile.

"Any news from Bobbi?"

May stood in Coulson's office, arms folded over her chest.

Coulson looked up, his eyes weary as though he hadn't been sleeping at all. He shook his head. "Bobbi says she made it through surgery." But he knew May knew that. The surgery had been over a day ago now. She wanted to know what would happen next, what would happen to Jemma.

"She contacted me about two hours ago, research is the same as it has been. Cure works for a period, cure then fails."

"So it's a death sentence?"

Coulson nodded. "The longest is just over three months."

"Who makes the decision?"

"What decision?"

"The decision to... Coulson, it's… Her parents need to know this. Do they know this?"

Coulson shook his head. "Not yet."

"They need to know."

And with that, she left.

Mack hardly knew Jemma but he knew what an impact it was having on Fitz. Just how much it was affecting him. And he now had a better idea of what it would have been like for Jemma when it was Fitz in the coma. Not knowing if her best friend, the person that she loved would ever awaken. What would happen if they did.

He heaved a sigh as Trip sat up from the bench, wiping the sweat of his forehead. Mack knew he was distracting himself, it was only helping slightly. But he knew being here was better than being there, watching the nothing unfold in front of his eyes.

Trip, meanwhile, said nothing as he made his way across the gym, towel hanging around his neck. He reached for a shirt he had brought with him, and put it on, still silent.

"How's Fitz?" Trip finally asked. He knew the answer. He was just trying to make conversation. Trying to ease the tension of the room.

Mack just shook his head. There were really no words that could describe just how Fitz was. None of them would do him justice.

And no one wanted to ask about Jemma. They were too scared to hear the answer.

Fitz must have fallen asleep, that was the only explanation for the clock now reading just after one in the morning, and her hand no longer being in his.

He had just started to apologise for that when he spotted the letter on the bedside table. Addressed to him. In her writing. Someone must have left it there for him.

He reached for it, turning it over and over in his hands before opening it, slowly, cautiously. Scared to know what it would say.

 _Dear Fitz_

 _If you ever read this, when you ever read this, I'll probably be dead, or close enough to it. And it means that I never got to say anything I wanted to say to you. Which is a lot Fitz. There is so much that I want to say to you and I don't think I will be able to say any of it. Because I'm dying Fitz. And that terrifies me._

 _But I don't want to focus on that. There are so many things that I want you to know, and I don't think I will ever be able to write them all down, and let you know all of them. But I'll say the ones of most importance because I owe you that. You deserve that from me. You deserve to know why I left, why I went undercover. It's because you were suffering because of me. Everything I seemed to do hindered your recovery. You weren't getting better because of me. And I didn't want to cause you any more pain, any more suffering Fitz. I love you far too much to do that. So I left, to allow you to recover. And you did. You didn't need me anymore. You could live without me Fitz. But I'm not sure I could ever live without you. You were my only thought when I was away. You were the only one I wanted to talk to but I couldn't. I couldn't let you suffer because of me not anymore._

 _It was_ _never_ _because you weren't good enough. It wasn't because of that. Never think like that about yourself Fitz because you are the best person I have ever met. You are so brave unlike me. You deserve someone so much better than me._

 _Someone who is worthy of your love. Because I'm not. Because, despite how much I love you, I am not worth it. Not after all I put you through._

 _Because I do love you Fitz. I love you more than I can describe. There are no words in any language that I can find that can describe just how much I love you. Everyone else, none of them understand me, none of them respect me like you do. None of them were you. None of them are you._

 _When we were in the Academy, I used to wonder what life with you would be like. Not like how were at Sci-Ops. But Together. As a couple. Together. What our children would be like? Would they get those poodle curls of yours that I teased you about relentlessly? Those blue blue eyes that I still find myself getting lost in, even after all these years?_

 _So many times I imagined us in Perthshire, in a cottage I passed all the time as a child on family holidays. I imagined it as I followed you around the Academy, annoying you. But I still did it. Followed you about everywhere. You were the only one my age. The only one who I wanted to be friends with. You were so pasty back then, so intelligent and so handsome._

 _I only wish we hadn't ended like we did. With me ruining everything._

 _Fitz, please be happy. That's all I want for you. To be happy and to have a long life with someone who loves you. Someone who's good enough for you._

 _I love you_

 _Jemma_

Fitz didn't know which smudges on the letter were because of his tears, or because of the ones she had cried when writing the letter.

 **I am sorry again and thanks for all the love and support. You guys are amazing!**


	8. Chapter 8

"Fitz."

"Fitz."

"Fitz."

Finally, he looked up at her, taking his attention away from Jemma to look at Bobbi. He didn't say anything.

It took a moment for Bobbi to actually find her words, to be able to speak. Looking at Fitz, her heart broke. He looked awful. Bobbi wasn't sure when the last time he slept was, the black bags under his eyes evident of just how tired he was. But they were also red and puffy from him having cried so many tears. "I need you in the lab."

He shook his head. "I can't."

Bobbi closed her eyes, taking a breath and then pausing. "Fitz please. I need your help. I can't do this without you. You know her work better than me, better than anyone."

"I can't leave her," Fitz told Bobbi, his voice strained. "She needs me."

"Fitz," Bobbi tried again. She was pleading with him now. Even with Jemma's notes she hadn't been able to get a cure that was permanent. They had now managed to get something that worked for a couple of years now, but it still wasn't good enough.

At least to Bobbi.

"I know she needs you. But Fitz, I can't do this without you. Her notes, they're in some short hand. Please, if not for me. For her. Do it for her."

Fitz looked back at Jemma and then nodded.

"Have you told her parents?" May stood in the doorway to Coulson's office.

His expression was grim. It was obvious that he had informed them.

"And?"

"They want to see her."

"And?" May asked again, knowing that the only way that Coulson would say anything would be if he was continually prompted.

"We can't let them."

"How did they take that?"

"Not well. Her mother…" He closed his eyes as if he were reliving the conversation. "She's… distraught isn't even a word for it."

"And her father?"

"Angry. Beyond belief. He wanted to know how we could let this happen. Wanted to know how we let it get this far before we noticed that there was anything wrong. He blames us. He's right…"

"No." May's stern voice cut through him. Refusing to let him believe that. There was no one truly at fault here, not really (except Hydra but May couldn't get to them…yet). "Don't blame yourself. That's the last thing we need."

"Fitz?" Coulson asked, wondering just how the young engineer was fairing. He had been through a lot this past year, and this was the last thing that he needed.

"Bobbi got him into the lab."

"She did?" Coulson was surprised at this. It seemed to them that not even the end of the world would force Fitz to move from her bedside.

"Skye hacked her laptop. Found her notes. Bobbi needed Fitz to help her shift through them."

"They're getting somewhere?"

May shrugged. She didn't want to get hopes up. That was the last thing that they needed at this point.

False hope.

She threw down the empty bottle of water, and bandaged her wrists again. She sighed, and placed the gloves on her hands. Trip hit the pads together, gesturing for Skye to come towards him.

She did, throwing a punch with her left fist and hitting the direct centre of the pad.

Trip took a step back, Skye unsure whether it was actually the force of her punch that did this or if Trip was just exaggerating to make her feel better about himself.

"Skye," he said, his voice reassuring, calm despite all that was happening in their world. Skye hated the fact that she liked it. Hated the fact that it made her feel safe and happy when she shouldn't be. Because she shouldn't be happy. Not when one of her closest friends was dying. "You're not going to hurt me. Punch as hard as you like. You need a release. Okay?"

She nodded, and Trip did a number of light bounces, going backwards and gesturing Skye towards him.

She did, taking light steps towards him and punching.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Taking all her anger out.

Tears started to stream down her face.

She hated that this was happening. It wasn't fair. Not at all.

Jemma shouldn't be dying. She shouldn't be lying there in a coma, no one sure what would even happen to her. Unlike with Fitz. Everyone knew he would awake, and knew what could possibly follow.

But not with Jemma. No one knew what this would do to her, what would follow if she awoke.

 _If._

She hated the fact that this word was used and not when. Nothing was fair. Not at all.

Her punches increased in frequency but decreased in strength and before long she was wrapped in Trip's arms, sobs escaping her.

Bobbi watched from Fitz shift through her notes, them now having been printed out. It made annotating easier.

"Getting anywhere?" Hunter asked from beside Bobbi. She shrugged, not turning around to face him.

"Slightly. Fitz wants to look at her work alone. He's using our work as a basis. If anyone can do this it's him…"

Hunter nodded, knowing that if this didn't work then Jemma wouldn't survive.

Death.

If Hunter was going to be honest with himself, death was something that he wasn't scared of. He was aware of his own mortality and he had faced death more than enough times.

But here now, having seen Jemma, having come from her bedside (Fitz had asked him and Mack to keep an eye on her while he was working)… something about her had resonated with him. Seeing her like that; looking so small, so pale, her body scarred with a red rash on her arm, and purple veins snaking up her neck.

He had asked Bobbi why the rash was on her arm when her torso was the place that had been infected initially. She had said that it was just how her immune system had reacted with bioweapon. It seemed so simple that, the rash. But what wasn't so simple was what was happening to her body, how all her cells were dying and not being able to be replaced.

It wasn't fair.

Not at all.

"No. No. No." Fitz's voice repeating the two lettered word again and again brought him back to reality. And the way he was saying it… It wasn't one of denial. It was said in a tone of disbelief.

"Fitz," Bobbi said, rushing to him. "What's wrong?"

He spun in his seat to face them. "I think I did it. I think I did it."

Hunter stared at him in disbelief. "You did it?"

Fitz nodded, as though he couldn't quite believe it. "I can save her."

 **Insert the FitzSimmons** ** _Do It For Her_** **Edit here.**

 **Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading it, it makes my day with all the lovely words you leave. And a thank you to all the guests who have commented that I am unable to reply to! Everyone who has supported this so far, you are fantastic!**


	9. Chapter 9

"You can?" Hunter asked, slightly shocked at this. He didn't want to get his hopes up. He didn't want to get his hopes up only to have them shattered.

But more than that; he didn't want to lose someone else in his life.

Fitz cast a glance at the computer, and Jemma's notes, then turned back to the ex-couple and nodded. "Yeah. I can help recover her cells, allow them to heal. Turn back on their mitotic functions. To help them regenerate but…"

"There's a but?"

Another nod from Fitz. "Two buts actually…"

Bobbi looked up from the notes. "He's right. The cure… it has to be administered every eight hours and that's after…" she looked back at the notes. "A full blood transfusion?" There was a slight hint of confusion in her voice.

"See, we were considering what would happen when we gave her a cure, what would happen. In every scenario that was devised, the bioweapon took over the cells again, destroyed them, didn't it?" A nod from Bobbi prompted him to continue. "We weren't considering what would happen if we removed as much of the bioweapon from her blood as we could…" he trailed off and realisation crossed Bobbi's face. Of course. How could she have forgotten that? She was too focused on finding something to save Jemma she had forgotten about the bioweapon in her blood? Removing it would drastically reduce its effects on her.

"Is that what's causing the purple in her veins?" Hunter asked, trying to keep up with the conversation, remembering the snaking purple veins on her.

Fitz clicked his finger, and pointed in his direction. "Yes!"

"So how long," Bobbi began, "Until we can get an effective cure?"

"72 hours? Maybe more, maybe less. Depends how quick we work."

"Then let's do it," Hunter's voice came.

May set the book down, the page marked and turned her attention to Jemma. She felt her heart twist in her chest looking down at her.

She was so small, so fragile looking, being kept alive more or less by machines.

It shouldn't have happened to her.

It shouldn't have happened to any of them.

Jemma.

Fitz.

Skye.

May thought back to when she had first met them all.

How Skye seemed care-free. How all she wanted to do was find out who her parents were.

Now she was an agent, an excellent one at that. But May could see herself in the younger woman. And that terrified May. She didn't want Skye to lose herself, not as she had lost herself. She didn't want to see Skye become what she herself had become. Because it wasn't pleasant. She wouldn't wish that upon Skye. She didn't deserve it.

And how Fitz was once so confident in his work, knowing that he had gotten it right, when now he wasn't confident. He wasn't sure that he was right now, and when he was, he was less likely to admit it. All confidence was now lost to the ocean.

May hated how he thought he wasn't good enough when he was. He was more than good enough. And she knew why he was doing it. Why he was hating himself so very much now.

He thought he wasn't good enough for Jemma. May, however, knew better. She knew Jemma's thoughts on the matters. She knew how Jemma hated herself for putting him through that. Blaming herself for everything. For all his suffering. Because she wasn't good enough, because she didn't swim fast enough, because she dragged them into the field. But in her eyes, Fitz would always be perfect. He would always be her Fitz, no matter what happened to them. He would always be her best friend. But still Jemma blamed herself for what had happened, despite it not being her fault, despite the fact that she carried none of the blame.

Because Jemma Simmons did that. No matter whose fault it was, she carried the blame. She chose to suffer alone and in silence, refusing to open up to people. May looked back down at her and vowed to herself that when, _when_ and not _if_ Jemma awoke, that she wouldn't have to bear the weight of the world alone.

Not again.

She was going to ensure that Jemma got the help that she needed, that she was able to talk to someone about what was going through her mind, allow her to recover from all that she had been through.

Because she shouldn't have went undercover at Hydra. May regretted letting her go. She should have stopped that mission from happening. Jemma wasn't ready to go.

Jemma had been acting like she was fine, but she wasn't.

May could only wonder what would be different if Jemma hadn't went undercover?

Would she still be lying here, fighting for her life?

Footsteps caused May to look up at the door. Skye was standing there, nervously fidgeting.

"Skye," May said, inviting her to speak. She probably wanted to see Jemma, or had news about her. If it was the latter, May only hoped that it was good.

"Fitz, and Bobbi, they think they found something. A way to help her."

"That's good, isn't it?"

Skye nodded. "I'm just…I can't lose her May." Skye's composure that had been calm for more or less the entire period that Jemma had been in the coma, finally fell away. Tears made their way down the younger woman's face and sobs escaped her.

"I can't lose her."

"We won't."

Though May wasn't sure if these words were indeed fact.

It took them just over three days to get the first number of cures ready. Enough to last a month. What was relieving, to everyone on base, was that the cure was cheap and quick to produce, and not a lot needed to be administered every eight hours.

However, there was a drawback; despite it being the longest lasting cure, it still would only last from 40-50 years. More than enough time, but it still, in Fitz's eyes, wasn't good enough. She would never fully recover from this. She would always suffer from this.

And he hated that. Hated the fact. Hated that he couldn't help her. She had done so much for him, for everyone, and she still had to suffer. It wasn't fair.

She was going to survive. She wasn't going to die. They had done the impossible. They had saved her. And Fitz couldn't complain at that.

And she had also helped to save herself, with all the notes that she had made.

Bobbi had told him that she would awake soon, by the end of the day at the latest.

He was rubbing his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand.

And he was terrified.

No one knew what would happen to her when she awoke. No one knew what the side-effects would be and they were preparing for the worse.

But that didn't matter to Fitz.

She was going to live.

She was going to survive.

And that's all that mattered to him.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there when he felt her fingers twitch under his hand.

 **Yet another cliff hanger. I am so sorry. At least you only have a twenty four wait, over on A03 it was over a week, so that's something? Yay? Sorry for any biological inaccuracies, it's Geography I do... Thanks for all your support. You guys rock!**


	10. Chapter 10

**We're at the halfway mark, hope you enjoy this one!**

At first he thought that he had been imaging it. Then it happened again.

"Jems?" he asked, scared. He was worried he was just imagining it. Then her fingers twitched again. He immediately reached for the call button, and it wasn't long before Bobbi came running into the room.

"I think she was… her fingers moved. They twitched," Fitz explained as Bobbi made her way around the bed. She reached on the bedside table, lifting a small torch of it. Ever so gently, she opened one of Jemma's eyes, shining the light in it then doing the same with the other eye.

Once she was done, she collapsed in the other chair.

"Is everything, is she okay?" Fitz asked, almost fearing for the answer.

After a period of time, Bobbi nodded slowly. "Her pupils are starting to respond to the light stimulus. Not a lot, but it's there."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"She's getting there Fitz, but we can't tell what's going to happen when she wakes. We don't know what condition she'll be in. We won't know until she wakes up."

Fitz nodded at this, knowing better than anyone just how hard it was to diagnose a brain injury when it was known there was one, never mind not knowing whether there was one.

"And Fitz," Bobbi said, pulling herself from the chair. "When she wakes up soon, she'll be disoriented. She won't know where she is, she won't be responsive. She'll probably be in pain, her body will still be trying to cope with all that it's been through."

Fitz nodded, understanding this. He had expected this after all that had happened, after all that she had been through. He knew that there was a slim chance that she would come out fully recovered. He had been expecting this. So he was going to be there. To help her.

Just like she had him.

Even though he hadn't known it at the time.

Since that first initial movement, it was a number of hours until Jemma opened her eyes.

"Jemma?" he asked, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get a response. "Hey, Jems, it's okay."

She tried to turn her head to look at him, but didn't succeed. It looked as though that she had no energy at all except to blink. The breathing tube still was in, and at this moment it seemed as though it wasn't bothering Jemma. Hell, it seemed that she didn't even notice it.

He took her in, her expression seemed blank, as though she didn't know where she was. Her skin was pale. Too pale, Fitz thought. The purpling of her veins caused by the bioweapon had started to pale, leaving nothing but slightly discoloured skin behind. Fitz couldn't help but wonder if it would leave something not dissimilar to a scar behind.

"I'm going to get Bobbi, okay? I'll be right back." He reached over to her, and brushed a lose strand of hair back behind her ear. "I'll be right back." Her eyes flicked to him, and it seemed she was trying to take in what he was saying, but not succeeding at this either.

And he was back right away, though Jemma wasn't really aware of this.

"Jemma," Bobbi greeted entering the room. "Glad to see you're okay." She smiled at the other woman in the bed. "I'm just going to do a few checks okay, make sure everything's alright. Fitz will be right beside you, holding your hand, okay?"

Fitz already had her hand in his, her fingers twitching again as if she were trying her hardest to hold his hand back.

Once Bobbi had finished all the necessary medical examinations, she asked Fitz to come outside with her. Before he did so, he looked at Jemma, her eyes wide and full of pain, as if screaming at him not to leave, comprehending something for the first time in so long. Bending down he place a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back. You know that right? I won't leave you, okay? I'll be right back."

Outside her room, door now closed, Bobbi sighed heavily as she leaned against the wall. "She's awake."

Fitz nodded at this, and cast a glance back at her. "She's awake."

"Fitz, we need to talk about her."

He nodded again at this. "What… what's going to happen next?" He had ideas, he had had previous experience with a situation like this (though most of it was a blur to him), but he wanted to know what Bobbi had to say. She was more qualified than he was, and the doctor in charge of Jemma.

Bobbi shrugged. "She'll be like that for a number of days as her body readjusts. Gets use to being awake. Conscious. It's been through a lot. Rest is the most important thing at the minute."

"The breathing tube?" Fitz asked.

"We're going to have to wean her off it, her lungs will be weak. We can't risk taking it out. Not yet anyway."

Then, "Fitz, she won't be in the lab. Not for a number of months anyway."

Nodding, Fitz cast another glance back into the room to look at Jemma. She seemed so alone, something that she was used to after all that had happened. She had been so alone and suffering if her letter had been anything to go by. And he had vowed never to let that happen again.

"You can go back," Bobbi said, and Fitz smiled at her.

A number of hours later, Skye appeared, standing anxiously at the door. "Is she…"

Fitz looked at her. "She's awake. Not now. But she was. Earlier. She had another one of her injections. But she's asleep. She will be for a while."

Skye gave a half smile. "That's good, right?"

Fitz nodded.

"I… I brought you food." She held up the plastic bag. "Trip and Hunter, they went to the Chinese to celebrate."

Fitz smiled at her. "Do you want to come in?"

Skye took a cautious step into the room. And then joined Fitz beside her bed, lifting the containers out, and feeling as if for once in so long now that everything was going right. That everything was going to be okay.

 **I did some basic research on comas on the NHS website but have taken some creative liberty with it, but I am incorporating the fact that it takes some time for the person to be fully conscious after a coma as I've a few cute scenes planned with this. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks so very much for all of your continued support!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry this is late with being posted, I was out all day yesterday and so never got a chance to post anything. Hope you enjoy this next part!**

The next morning, when Jemma awoke, Fitz was still at her side, slumped back in his chair, asleep. Jemma turned her head ever so slightly so that she was able to face him. She wanted to speak to him, to call out to him but the tube in her mouth was preventing that. It was uncomfortable; so much, more annoying that it had previously been. She wanted to reach out to him, to take his hand in her own, but found that she couldn't do this also; she had no energy at all, no strength.

And seeing him like this hurt her heart. More than it had hurt when she was dying. Seeing him like this, exhausted, run down… he didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve any of this. He didn't deserve her.

No matter what, she always hurt him. Always caused him pain.

What kind of friend was she?

Tears started to form in her eyes, glistening in the bright white lights of the hospital. She didn't know how long she was like that before the door to the room opened and Bobbi entered.

She smiled at Jemma once she saw that she was awake, then called out to Fitz. This awoke him, and he blinked, confused at first.

"Morning," Bobbi greeted, making her way to Jemma and beginning her daily examinations. "I take it you don't know how long she's been awake."

Fitz shook his head. "No, I… Jemma? Are you… Jems, it's okay."

He reached over, cupping her cheek with his hand, and she leaned into it, savouring the contact. There was so much that he wanted to say, so much that he _had_ to say to her, to explain. To apologise for, But he couldn't find the words. He didn't have them. He didn't have anything that would be appropriate that would do the situation justice.

So they remained like that for a while, Jemma resting her hand on his cheek as he used his other hand to stroke her hair, gentle reassurances escaping his lips in barely more than a whisper.

She was asleep that afternoon again. Fitz was still with her, despite the fact that Coulson had tried to get him to go back in the lab, saying that he was needed, that she would be okay alone for a number of hours. That Hunter, Skye, even May could sit in with her.

Fitz had still refused to move, saying that she needed him. That he couldn't leave her.

Coulson, after some arguing, reluctantly let Fitz stay, knowing that if Fitz did go back to the lab, that no work would be done anyway.

"How is she?" May asked from the doorway. Fitz turned to look at her, and May took him, seeing just how badly the past week had impacted on him. Massive black bags hung under his eyes, he looked pale, and just exhausted.

May felt a twinge in her heart. She had seen Jemma in that position, seen just how it had affected her. Just what had happened to her. And now seeing Fitz sitting in her position…

It wasn't something that either of them had deserved. All of what they had been through, neither of them had deserved that, any of it. They were just kids, or they had been. In the past year they had gone through so much, suffered so much. Had to grow up so much.

They shouldn't be here. Not again. Not knowing what would happen to the other. They shouldn't have faced death, either of them. Not this many times.

"How is she?" May asked again.

Fitz sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and turned to look at Jemma. "Asleep."

May fixed her gaze on him, and Fitz felt it before he answered what she had actually been answering. "I don't know. Not yet. All tests show that she's recovering, that her cells are healing. That…" He trailed of, not knowing where to go next.

"Did you read her letter?" May asked, and this was not what Fitz had been expecting.

"Did I read her letter?" He spun so that he was facing the older woman.

May nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I did." He continued looking at May, wondering what she was getting at.

"So you know why she left?"

Fitz stared at May, his back to Jemma still, and wondering what she was talking about. "Undercover? Yeah, I know. She thought, she thought she was making me worse."

"And what are your thoughts?"

Fitz sighed, knowing that it was inevitable that this conversation was happening, knowing that it would have come one day or another. And he knew that he would still have to have this, and other conversations, with Jemma. "I was… I was too hard on her. I thought she was... I thought she didn't like me, the new me, the changed me and I was angry. And I took it out on her, took everything out on her. I shouldn't have."

May didn't reply, waiting for him to say more, wanting him to say more.

He sighed before continuing. "I didn't think, none of us did, about her. About what she suffered in the pod, afterwards. None of us, we didn't care almost. We didn't… we didn't think. And it's… she shouldn't have suffered."

There was more that needed to be said, both Fitz and May knew that. More that needed to be discussed between Fitz and Jemma, but for now, this was enough. This was more than enough for now.

"I don't," Fitz began. "I don't… I can't… I don't have the words. How can I say this to her… to apologise… to say that I'm sorry. That we all are… that it wasn't her fault, that it was never her fault?" He closed his eyes, and May could have sworn that she saw tears glistening in their corners.

"You don't have to."

Fitz looked at May, confusion sweeping across his face. "What?"

The corners of May's mouth turned up, and she raised an eyebrow, as if to indicate that he should look behind him.

Spinning back around in his chair, he allowed the tears to flow freely.

"Jems," he whispered, reaching for her hand.

Big brown eyes, wide and full of tears were watching him.

Taking him in.

Taking _his_ words in.

And once her hand was in his, she managed to return the grip, and rubbed her thumb, ever so slowly as if testing the action, across the back of his hand.

 **Because over on A03, I had written The Conversation so many times, I wanted to try something different and this happened. Also, I need Mama May in my life.**


	12. Chapter 12

The next day, Bobbi decided that her lungs were strong enough to for them to start weaning her off the breathing tube.

This continued over the next few days, the times without it becoming longer and longer as her lungs became stronger and stronger

No one had expected her to recover this quick.

But they weren't ungrateful.

She was still in bed, still extremely exhausted and not yet speaking. But she was awake, and paying attention to her surroundings, and slightly irritable.

Everyone was taking that as a good sign.

Coulson sighed as he put down her medical report. It looked…

It wasn't something that he wanted to be reading.

Again.

He didn't know how many times he had read it in over the week since Jemma had collapsed, the file having been updated so much.

Staring down at her picture, she looked so young, so full of life.

So happy.

Before everything had happened to her. Before Hydra had happened.

He closed the file, unable to look at the picture anymore.

"It's not your fault." May's voice cut through the uncomfortable silence that had formed in the room. "Fitz. Simmons. What happened to them, it isn't on you. It's on Ward. Hydra. Not you."

Coulson looked up at her, at her. "We failed her, we failed them."

"We did." May's answer was blunt but something that he was expecting. They had failed them in a way. Not knowing that Ward was Hydra, sending them alone, sending Jemma undercover, not sensing that anything was wrong.

Not providing the help that she so desperately needed. She hadn't accepted Andrew's help the first time. But this time, there would be no choice. At least until she had talked about all that she had been through, taken some of the burden off her shoulders. She needed the help, and she would be getting that help.

"But we won't again." May's tone was finally.

They wouldn't allow anything like this to happen.

Not again.

Bobbi was in the lab, reading through the medical report, checking that everything was okay. And for the first time, she allowed herself to smile.

Jemma was recovering exceptionally well.

The breathing tube would no longer be needed.

A nasal cannula would be used at nights, just as a precaution.

That didn't mean, however, that there weren't going to be side effects, that there wasn't going to be anymore hurdles.

Her lung function would be impacted, and be left weaker than normal. As good as Fitz's cure, as good as Jemma's cure was, it wasn't perfect. It wouldn't ever be perfect. As well as her heart…

Fieldwork would be a massive no for her now.

"Bobbi?"

It was Skye.

Bobbi looked up at her. "Is everything okay?"

Skye nodded, nervous that she had caused Bobbi to panic. "Yeah, no I was just wondering if you wanted to train. May suggested that I learn with others, to get an idea of a range of different fighting styles."

Bobbi nodded, lifting herself from the stool. There was a nervous energy flowing through her. She had been wanting to fight for the past number of days now, but she hadn't. She hadn't left the lab or the medical bay.

She was scared that something would happen to Jemma, but now…

Now they were in the clear. Everything was going to be fine.

She made her way out of the lab, Skye following behind her.

"Just to let you know," the smaller agent called out. "I've been practising."

She lay there, watching him work, his hands attempting to fix the cloaking device for the QuinnJet. He was explaining all that he was doing, allowing her to be involved as much as he could.

Her eyes were starting to get that twinkle back in them that he loved so much. One of the things that made Jemma Jemma.

One of the things that had been lost in the Hydra uprising.

Taken from her.

"Jemma," he spoke, breaking the flow of his one sided conversation. "I'm sorry, okay? You know that, I'm sorry for all that happened. For what I did to you, okay?"

There was a rustling of fabric and she nodded. He smiled at her, bending down and kissing her forehead.

Everyone, despite not having said it, thought that she was going to die, that she wasn't going to survive this.

But she had powered through, she had survived.

Everyone had thought that Hydra had broken her, destroyed her but she was stronger than they all knew. Than they all thought she was.

Fitz still regretted his actions, what he had done that had caused her to think that she needed to go undercover to allow him to recover.

He hadn't considered her, what she might be suffering.

She _was_ suffering and no one had seen that.

No one had helped her.

They had left her, alone, without a support system.

But that wasn't going to happen.

Not again.

Jemma wouldn't have to suffer that ever again.

A knock on the door caused him to turn.

Mack was standing there, a grim expression on his face. Fitz felt his stomach turn.

"Turbo," even his voice was solemn, as if he didn't want to do this. "Coulson, he wants you back in the garage."

Fitz shook his head. "No. I'm not leaving her."

Mack gave a heavy sigh, clearly not enjoying his job. "Director's orders."

Another shake of the engineer's head. Didn't they understand that he didn't want leave her? That he _couldn't_ leave her?

He was scared that this wasn't real, that if he left her something would happen. And he didn't want to be responsible for that.

"Fitz please," Mack sounded angry. Angry and desperate. Fitz looked at her, she looked slightly scared now, as if she didn't want him to leave as if she didn't want to be alone. "Fitz." Mack again.

Fitz looked one time at Jemma and then at Mack. He stood up, not to leave but to speak to Mack, to explain to him why he _couldn't_ leave, without causing a scene, when he felt cold fingers curl around his wrist.

He was just about to explain what he was doing when he heard it. Her voice, weak, hoarse but her voice nevertheless.

"Fitz."

 **The next number of chapters deal with Jemma coming to terms with what has happened and recovering. Thanks for all the love and support!**


	13. Chapter 13

"Jemma?" he asked, looking down at her, before taking his seat again, pulling his seat closer to her. "Jems."

He brushed the loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"Fitz," she said again, trying to find her voice after so long. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "No, Jems, you've nothing to be sorry for."

"I do," she replied.

"No. You don't."

She stared at him, eyes wide. "But I left."

"I made you leave. Jems, I read your letter. I read it all, so many times, Jems, you've nothing, nothing at all to be sorry for."

He looked at her, tears welling in her eyes now, before making their way down her cheeks. "Jems," he said, his voice soft and close to breaking. "I just… I shouldn't have… we shouldn't have let you go undercover. You weren't ready for it. You were still recovering… we shouldn't have pushed you." He cupped her cheek with his hand, using his thumb to brush away the tears.

She stared at him, taking the words in, allowing them to sink in. Yes, maybe, just maybe, she hadn't been ready to go undercover. Maybe she was recovering from the Pod Incident. But, she hadn't been in a coma for nine days back then. She hadn't been the one to suffer from oxygen starvation.

But maybe, just maybe, she had been suffering, refusing to see it because she was scared that she wasn't. Scared to admit that she was suffering, that she needed help in case anyone called her a liar, said that she didn't actually need help. Scared they would claim she was only making it up for attention.

But maybe, just maybe, she should've taken Andrew up on that offer, to talk to someone. To help get that weight of her shoulder, the weight that was causing the cracks in her.

"Fitz?" she asked, staring up at him, not wanting to take her eyes of him, not wanting to take her eyes of him ever again.

"Yeah?"

"Stay with me please?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

The peace that had settled in the medical bay was ruined in the evening when Hunter came in, wanting to see how his fellow Brits were doing.

He smiled, seeing Jemma awake, propped up against the pillows. It made a massive difference to that day, just after they came back from the Hydra ambush, in the hangar, when she hadn't been able to walk.

When she had collapsed.

When her heart had given out.

When she had died in Fitz's arms.

But now, here she was.

Awake.

Alive.

She was still pale, exhausted looking, but that didn't matter.

She had fought against all the odds, and she was sitting there.

She had defied expectations, proved everyone wrong.

Propped up against the pillows, her hand in Fitz's as he rubbed his thumb reassuringly over the back of it.

But there was something different.

Something different about the room.

 _In_ the room.

And it wasn't just that Jemma was awake.

No, there was something between these two.

Something that he couldn't place his finger on.

He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the thought.

He smiled at Jemma, and she returned it.

"Brought you dinner," he said, passing Fitz a brown paper bag. Then he looked back at Jemma. "Bobs said you weren't eating, and anyway Skye said you weren't a fan of all this greasy food."

He nodded to the McDonalds bag that Fitz was now looking through it. "What's mine?" he asked.

"The plain burger, chips and…" he passed Fitz a now open bottle of beer.

Fitz accepted it with thanks as Jemma looked on, smiling at him.

"I owe you one," Fitz said to him but Hunter, who now pulling out even more food out of the bag, including Mozzarella Dippers, just shook his head.

"It's on me. You need it mate, after all you've been through." He knew that Fitz had had it rough, not leaving the room except to work in the lab for the cure.

And Hunter also knew that this is where the team had failed last time, not being there for Jemma when Fitz awoke from his coma. And he wasn't going to let that happen, anything happen to them. Because he had grown to care for these two nerds, grown to see them as family.

Jemma continued to watch on, something like longing in her eyes. Despite always valuing herself for eating healthily and not eating an excess of anything fatty or bad for her, Jemma couldn't remember the last time her and Fitz had had Mozzarella Dippers.

They used to get them all of the time when they were in the Academy and Sci-Ops. They were the perfect drunk food. They always used to get them all the time when they were drunk.

It had been so many years now.

Before all this had happened.

Before everything had happened.

Before everything had changed.

"'I'll get you some when you're out of here, alright love?" Hunter said, nodding to Jemma, lifting his bottle in the air, as if to toast.

Jemma's eyes flickered to Fitz and they seemed to exchange a conversation that only the other could understand.

Hunter watched in confusion as her eyebrow arched, and Fitz's blue eyes took in the gesture. She gave a curt nod of her head.

Fitz set his bottle and his food on her bedside cabinet and reached for her hand again and Hunter, being the spy that he was, tried to examine the scene. There was something about the hand hold, something about the way they were looking at each other.

They were speaking a language that he didn't understand, one only the other did.

It was so full of love.

No, something _more_ than love.

"You going to have to be careful calling me that," she whispered, before he could query anything aloud.

"What… why?" Hunter asked, confused as to what she was going on about.

Fitz smiled at her, using this other hand to brush a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "You're going to have to go through me to be able to use that term."

It took him a moment to put one and one together and then…

"You're together?"

 **Because I love those dippers of cheesy goodness. A lot. Thanks for all the love and support, hope you enjoyed this one!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry for the delay in this chapter. I have been busy all week and have only just seen the season four premier so have been avoiding the Internet all week. Updates will be the next couple of days though. Hope you enjoy this one!**

"You're together?" Hunter asked, in shock.

Jemma nodded. "We are." She sighed, looking at Fitz, her friend.

Her best friend.

And now… now her boyfriend.

"And we'd appreciate it," Fitz began. "If you didn't tell anyone. Not yet anyway."

Hunter looked between them.

Not telling the team, well that was something that he didn't want to do.

Not at all.

Everyone had been rooting for them.

Wanting them to get together.

Hell, there was even a betting pool for when they would get together…

 _The Betting Pool_.

This gave him, Lance Hunter an idea.

FitzSimmons gave one another an anxious look, probably picking up on the devious look that was plastered across his face. He leaned in close to them.

"Listen," he began, flashing them a grin. "I'll make you a deal."

The next morning, there were no disasters, there were no world ending threats (one that S.H.I.E.L.D. needed to help with anyway), and it was going to be an easy day.

To Skye it was anyway.

And she had a plan.

"I want to reinstate the FitzSimmons betting pool." Her statement was blunt, and caused everyone to turn to look at her.

May raised an eyebrow from her place leaning against the counter. "That stopped running?"

Skye turned to look at her SO, and nodded. "After the Pod Incident, then it was up and running again. Then the other week…" She didn't need to continue. Everyone knew why it had stopped running the second time. No one knew if it would even be able to have a third run.

"I want to place a bet." Hunter's voice spoke up. There was something glistening in his eyes, but Skye just shook it off. Hunter _always_ had a glint in his eyes.

Skye leaned forward and the Brit mirrored her. "You placed one. Many actually."

At this Hunter then leaned back, placed him feet on the kitchen table (then took them down again after a glare from May) and smirked. "I have a good feeling about this one."

After her first session that afternoon with Andrew (Fitz had stayed of course, there was nowhere else she wanted him to be than by her side), she phoned her parents on his recommendation.

And it was the hardest phone call that she had to ever make.

Her mother had been incomprehensible, overwhelmed that she was able to hear her daughter's voice again when she was told all those days ago that it was unlikely that Jemma would survive, that she would probably never be able to hear her voice again.

Her father sounded exhausted, as though he hadn't been sleeping.

And knowing her father, he hadn't been. Staying up as long as he could, waiting for more, and hoping the news was good.

And it had been.

She was alive.

"I'll try," she promised, knowing that it would be hard to get away from base, even when she had been discharged from medical, with Hydra out there. "Yes mum, I swear. And he'll be coming too." She smiled at this, glad that they couldn't see her, despite how much she wanted them to be here. She knew that the smile would have given it all away. But then her dad spoke. "How did you know?" she asked in reply to his question. Her father laughed, explaining. Of course. Of course that was it. "I love you too."

And that was that. The conversation over.

One of the hardest things that she had to ever do in her life.

And it was done.

She allowed her head to fall on Fitz's shoulder who was sitting on the bed beside her, his arms wrapped around her protectively.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. When his phone buzzed.

Checking the time, he sighed knowing what it meant, and what was to happen.

"Is it time?" Jemma asked, looking up at him and he nodded. "Yeah, yeah it is."

She closed her eyes.

She listened as Fitz reached on the table for something, and then gently took her arm in his own.

The cure.

The thing that was keeping her alive.

She knew she had to get one every eight hours to keep her cells healing, from deteriorating.

Before she knew it, there was a sharp pinch and it was done.

"Fitz," she said, turning to look at him.

"Hmm, yeah Jems?"

"I could get used to this."

"What?" he asked, and before he knew what was happening, she was cupping her cheek and dipping her head, bringing her lips to dance across his.

Slow.

Tender.

And so full of love.

When they broke apart, foreheads touching and breath mingling, Jemma answered his question, her voice nothing more than a breath. "This."

Fitz still slept in the room, on an old threadbare sofa that Hunter and Mack had brought in from the lounge, knowing that Fitz wouldn't be moving back to his room anytime soon.

Jemma was awake, watched his figure under the blanket.

The rise of his chest.

The fall of his chest.

And she wanted to be there with him.

Or him to be here with her.

But they had decided against that.

No one, except Hunter, knew they were together yet. And they didn't want to spark the team's suspicions.

Not yet anyway.

But sleeping together wasn't new to them.

In a platonic way anyway.

They did it often in the Academy.

In Sci-Ops.

After Fitz's dad had died, she had slept in his bed every night for a month, providing comfort to him. Being there for him when the nightmares awoke him.

And she had slept in his bed, the night she came home from a date earlier. When she had come home after finding that Milton was cheating on her with someone else.

She had curled up in his bed, wrapped in his embrace and he had held her as she had cried herself to sleep.

As these thoughts fluttered through her mind, she closed her eyes, hoping to get some sleep.

But then it happened.

She opened her eyes.

Sighing.

She knew it would happen.

And she would need help dealing with this.

"Fitz."

"Fitz."

"Fitz!"

 **So I believe that there was a betting pool because why not? Thanks for all the support and hope you enjoyed this one!**


	15. Chapter 15

Her voice calling out his name woke him up.

Calling his name again…

And again…

And again.

Sitting up, trying to wrestle his way out of the blankets, his first thought was fear.

That something had happened to her.

Something bad.

But reaching over, switching the light on and her found her sitting up in the bed, staring at him. "I need the bathroom," she whispered to him.

Relief first swept across Fitz's face and then confusion. "Bathroom? Jems do you not have, a you know? A catheter?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh Fitz. That's why Bobbi made you leave earlier today. She was removing it."

Fitz thought back, knowing that Bobbi had waned to see Jemma this morning, that he had had to leave the room.

And now he knew the reason why.

"Ah," he said. "And you've not… you haven't been…"

"I haven't been since I had it taken out Fitz, if that's what you're asking."

He nodded. "And you want… you want my help?"

She nodded this time. "Please. Just walking, I've not been out of bed since… and I don't want to fall. Please?" It didn't even take her to bat her eyelashes for Fitz to know what he was going to do (and even if he didn't know or want to, Jemma batting her eyelashes was a sure fire way of getting him to do something).

Fitz nodded in understanding, and gave her a smile, one that she returned, knowing what he was going to do. He stood, and allowed her to loop one arm around his shoulder, helping her to his feet.

She swayed, a little unsteady at first but then she regained her balance, looking at Fitz, a wide grin on both their faces.

For, in this moment, this wasn't Fitz helping a Simmons who had been in a coma for many days to the bathroom.

No, this was Fitz helping a Jemma who was slightly more drunk than him back to their apartment after a night out, when they were more than enjoying life.

Having fun.

No fear of death.

No Hydra.

No nothing.

Just Fitz.

Simmons.

Having fun.

Enjoying life.

Like anyone their age should be.

Once they had returned from the bathroom, they were curled up on the bed together, the sofa forgotten.

They had agreed that overall it was for the best; that it wouldn't be good for Fitz's posture, sleeping there; that it would be much more convenient for him to share the bed with her, much more comfortable.

And that's how they ended up where they were now.

Curled up in bed, nestled into each other, her forehead resting against his chest.

Her breaths were light, symbolising sleep was going to come to her soon.

But it wasn't going to come to him that easily.

Not like it had earlier.

Both of them had wanted this for so long now, and neither had thought the other had wanted this.

There had been a miscommunication.

A lot of it.

To get to this point.

But they were here now.

Both recovering from the traumas that they both had suffered.

Fitz knew that there was a long road ahead, that there would be both good days and bad days to come but as long as they had each other they could do it.

They would be able to do it.

They were FitzSimmons after all.

The next few days were filled with therapy sessions, and now that Jemma knew that she didn't have to carry the weight of the world, the universe, alone, they were slightly easier.

Now Fitz knew why she had left, and understood just _why_ she had did it, their friendship was now back in full swing, finishing each other's sentences, re-establishing that psychic connection that everyone though they had.

Just being FitzSimmons again.

But with more kissing.

In private.

Not that either of them were complaining about it.

They were quite enjoying it actually.

It was like they were enjoying their youth. Having this secret relationship that no-one (except Hunter) knew about (and Hunter was doing well, keeping up his end of the bargain).

It was like they were young.

Not a care in the world.

Because they had missed this when they were in the Academy.

Too focused on their work.

Too oblivious to their feelings.

Pulling apart, her hands wrapped around his neck, holding him close, never wanting to let him go, he tenderly, lovingly caressed her cheek.

"Jems," he whispered.

"Yes," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut.

"I…"

But before he could speak, there was a knock on the door. "Jemma? Fitz?"

 **I got the toilet humour from You Instead/Tonight You're Mine (based in T in the Park which apparently occurs in Perthshire and has an actress who was in a film with Iain once...) so I hoped you enjoyed this chapter and thanks for this support.**


	16. Chapter 16

**If you commented on any of the last chapters, and I've not replied yet, sorry but nothings coming up on my account yet and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!**

Jemma wasn't sure how Fitz was able to move that quickly.

He was off the bed, and back on the chair by her bedside, as though nothing had happened.

And Jemma herself must have moved sub-consciously, lying back on the bed, smiling as Bobbi entered the room, followed by Skye and Coulson.

"Sir!" she exclaimed, sitting up, surprised that the Director, that Coulson, was in here now. He had rarely seen her since she had woken up, leaving her to recover.

"Simmons, good to see you're recovering."

She nodded at this. "Thank you sir."

Bobbi and Skye came closer, a huge grin was making its way across her face. Jemma was about to ask what was making her so happy, what could be causing this reaction when Bobbi spoke, a smile almost as large on her face.

"You're being released, everything has come back fine. You can do the rest of your recovery out of here…" she started, and Jemma turned to look at Fitz beaming, but then Bobbi continued. "But there are conditions; no more fieldwork, no lab work until you get the all clear from Andrew and your sessions continues with him. Once a week."

Jemma nodded, understanding. She knew there would be no more field work, her body not being able to cope with it anymore (Fitz was leaving the field also, they had had too many scares, too many close encounters and neither wanted to be in this position again), and Andrew had said that he wanted their sessions to continue.

But no lab work.

She and Fitz had come up with so many ideas the past number of days, projects they wanted to get started on as soon as possible, they had lost so many months not working together that they wanted to get back at it as soon as possible. They had missed it after all, and they weren't as efficient when they weren't working together.

But that wasn't going to be happening anytime soon.

Bobbi raised an eyebrow and Jemma nodded. "Yes, I know."

A smile from the taller agents as she pulled out a pair of scissors from her back pocket, and snipped at the bracelet that had confined her to the medical bay for so long now.

"Congratulations Dr. Jemma Simmons. You are now a free woman now."

The rest of the team had set up the lounge for them, a party of sorts.

With nibbles, and party food.

Not massive servings but enough for Jemma who was still not eating that much.

And a surplus of alcohol.

Which probably came from Hunter.

Upon entering the room, Jemma felt her heart twist but in a good way.

Due to affection.

Due to love.

Due to happiness at what her friends, what her family had did for her.

And not in a way that showed her that she was dying.

That was behind her, though the ghosts still remained.

But she wouldn't let that cloud her mind.

Not tonight.

"Simmons?" Trip asked upon seeing her reaction, and seeing the tears stream down her face. "Is everything okay?"

Jemma nodded, feeling Fitz squeeze her hand reassuringly. "Yeah it's just… Thank you." She had no words for this.

It was so unexpected but so lovely.

More than she could have ever asked for.

More than she deserved.

"Sorry," she whispered, wiping away her tears on the back of hand, the one that was not holding onto Fitz.

Skye shook her head, rising from her seat and pulling her friend into a hug. "You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?"

A nod from Jemma into Skye's shoulders as she wrapped her arms around the other woman. "I was… I was scared we lost you Jemma."

Jemma nodded again, unable to find the words to say just how she felt so instead she went with "Thank you."

Skye pulled away, staring at the Brit. "What for?" There seemed to be genuine confusion in her face.

Jemma smiled, tears still glistening in her eyes. "You managed to hack my laptop, to get Bobbi, Fitz what they needed to save me. Thank you."

Skye shook her head. "You don't need to thank me. You know I would do anything for you Jemma. We would do anything for you."

"Thank you," Jemma said again as Skye pulled her into another hug.

After thanking everyone on the team (because it was a joint effort that she was alive, she wouldn't be there without all of them), a toast was made, everyone bar Jemma (because of her medication, she wasn't able to drink), had a bottle of beer in their hands.

"To new, and happier beginnings," Hunter said as the glasses (and the ceramic of Jemma's mug) clinked.

Sitting back, Jemma leaned in closer to Fitz, the mug held between her hands, warming them up (Fitz always complained that they were cold) and sighed, looking at all her friends, taking in what she thought she would never see, what she thought she would never be able to experience.

"You okay?" he whispered to her, his breath hot on her neck.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice quite as well, as if not wanting anyone else to hear their conversation, wanting it to be left between the two of them. She set her mug down on the table beside her, burying herself deeper against him, as if trying to connect to him, to stop being Fitz and Simmons, two separate people and become FitzSimmons; one person. "Can you pass me one of those small sandwiches, please?"

He leaned forward, reaching for it and passed her it, enjoying this himself, enjoying a chance at a life with her, a relationship that he never thought that he would be able to have.

The rest of the day passed uneventful, no world ending catastrophes, no Hydra, no nothing from distracting them from having a celebration, from enjoying one small victory out of so many times when something was lost instead of won.

Early in the evening, Jemma had fallen asleep against Fitz, the day having taken its toll on her.

Everyone was talking in soft muted tones so as not to disturb her when Fitz stood, taking her in his arms.

"I'm gonna take her back to bed," he whispered prompting nods from Hunter, Bobbi, Trip, Mack, Hunter and Skye who were still in the room.

Once they knew that he was down the corridor, and well out of ear shot, the discussion began.

"Somethings happened between them," Bobbi said, pointing out what everyone had noticed.

Skye rolled her eyes. "They've always been like that, you didn't know them before…"

"But this is different," Trip cut in. "Have they always been like that?"

An over-enthusiastic nod from Skye. "They have slept together before."

Mack almost choked on his drink. "Wait? What?"

Skye nodded, beaming, proud of herself. "Not like that," she said, upon seeing Hunter's face. "Nightmares, break ups… that sort of thing. When they needed comfort."

Mack raised an eyebrow, nodding in his approval. "But Barbs," he said, turning to her, ignoring the wince that she gave at her name. "You think they're close?"

She nodded. "They've not been able to keep apart. They're like a pair of horny teenagers."

Hunter lay back, feet up on the table, arms crossed against the back of the sofa, a smug look plastered across his face. He was remaining uncharacteristically quite for a conversation about FitzSimmons and their relationship, something that everyone picked up on.

"Hunter," Bobbi began cautiously. "Do you know something?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Reviews are still messed up but to anyone who has thank you for all your love. Really makes me smile!**

Busted was the only thought that Hunter had in that moment.

That he was busted.

Also, that he should run, and start a new life somewhere beginning with H.

"Em," he began cautiously, not wanting to give the game away as there was still a lot of money in this for him.

"He does!" Skye exclaimed, leaping up from her seat and pointing at him.

Mack stared at him, eyebrow raised.

Hunter swallowed hard. "Yes?" He extended the word, making it longer, hoping to postpone this conversation.

Skye made her way around the table, sitting next to him, ignoring all personal space, leaning in close to him, a teenager waiting for gossip.

"So," she began, and evil glint in her eye. "Tell me everything."

The alarm went off at midnight, waking both Jemma and Fitz. He sat up as best that he could with her lying on his chest smiling at him, her brown eyes sparkling in the dark.

"Jems," he whispered, reaching of and turning the lamp on, mirroring her as she closed her eyes until she had adjusted to the sudden brightness in the room.

He looked down at her, trying to keep the sadness from his eyes, from his smile but it was to no avail. Jemma saw right through it, of course she did.

"Fitz," she whispered in return, sitting up now so that she was facing him. She reached out, allowing her hand to cup his cheek and rubbed her thumb lovingly up and down, taking in the changes for the first time. Really taking them in.

He was no long that pasty boy she had met all those years ago at the Academy (he was still handsome, even more so now).

He was no longer clean shaven, looking younger than his years, looking almost baby faced.

(Not that Jemma was complaining. The stubble was an extremely good look on him, something that she could get more that used to).

"Fitz," she whispered again, leaning in and placing a kiss on his jaw. His mouth opened slightly then closed, as if he was trying to say something. "It's okay." She placed another kiss. "It's okay. You're doing enough, more than enough."

He shook his head. "I just…"

"Fitz, please," she whispered, closing her eyes as if to think, but also to calm the thoughts that were buzzing around in her mind. "You're doing more than enough."

He nodded, leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

He nodded again as she opened her eyes. Then turned away from her, reaching for the needle on the bedside table. This had been their routine every night at midnight. Waking up, sharing a number of stolen kisses in the dark, and Fitz administering the injection. The cure that was keeping her alive.

But this time, something was different.

Once it had been administered, and they were lying side by side once again, her head on his chest, feeling the thump thump thump of his heart and the breath in his lungs, his hands running through her hair when she asked a question. "Fitz?"

"Mmmh?"

"Do you… we've not done it in so long now… but do you want to watch Doctor Who? Instead of going back to sleep?"

"Yeah," he replied, a kiss placed in her hair, before reaching under her their bed, for the laptop and opening it up.

She was in the kitchen early the next morning, Fitz still in the shower, waiting on the kettle to boil. No one else was awake yet (except maybe May, but she hadn't seen the older agent yet), and it was nice to have the base this peaceful, this tranquil.

She was so lost in thought that she _almost_ didn't notice Fitz coming in the room. But she did.

And allowed him to wrap his arm around her waist, spinning her so that she was facing him, before dipping down and kissing her, long, passionate and so full of love.

She was pushed up against the counter, almost sitting on it, her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him in close and wanting to remain like that.

They were so pre-occupied that they didn't hear the footsteps in the kitchen.

In fact they didn't notice much until;

"Agent Fitz. Agent Simmons."

They pulled apart quickly.

"Agent May," Jemma greeted, stumbling over her words, cheeks red with embarrassment. "We were just… we were just…"

"Leaving," Fitz cut in, finding the words that she couldn't.

"Yes, leaving," she repeated, taking his hand in her own. "We were just leaving."

She led Fitz out of the room (who wasn't complaining, he was just as red as her, if not more) and headed down the corridor, faster than a walk but not fast enough to be suspicious.

May gave a small smile to herself as the kettle clicked, confirming that it was boiled and poured herself a mug of tea.

"So," Skye said, consulting the paper in front of her. "Hunter gets the money for the when they first started the relationship and when they would be found out?" She tapped the end of the pencil on the table, the rubber bouncing.

Nods and murmurs of agreement around the table as she reached for the metal box and started counting the bills that had built up there.

"No."

It was May's voice. "He didn't win."

Hunter swallowed hard, sinking down in his chair as if to hide himself from May.

"He cheated."

All eyes turned to the mercenary. He sunk further in the chair, hoping the ground would swallow him up as May continued her story about how Hunter had promised to keep their relationship if they helped him to win The Official FitzSimmons Betting Pool.

Skye shot daggers at him, and it was clear that there was going to be revenge later. "So," she said, scoring something of the sheet and working out how was the winner. "May gets when and how it's revealed, and Doug wins the date they started it?"

She passed the sheet to Trip who nodded, and Skye recounted the money (they were leaving Hunter's in, he had cheated after all, he didn't deserve the money back) and handed it to the senior agent who nodded her thanks.

As she walked away, Skye called after her. "Tell Doug to come by later!"

"He knows. He'll be back later. He's on a mission."

Skye turned, smiling at Trip, and Hunter used this opportunity to flee.

Making his way down the corridor, he bumped into Jemma.

A Jemma that looked slightly disorientated.

He knew she had just come out of a session with Andrew, and after those she preferred to be alone, only Fitz for company.

And judging from how she was it was obvious that she didn't know.

That Coulson hadn't told her.

"Lance!" she said, stepping back. "I'm sorry, never saw you there."

A pause as she looked around. "You haven't seen Fitz, have you?"

 **Only three more chapters left after this! Thanks to everyone for all their support, it really means a lot to me!**


	18. Chapter 18

**I'm back... So sorry for taking so long to update, I've not been able to watch the second ep until today and I've been on total social media avoidance because of that so I wasn't able to update this but over the next couple of days, the final two chapter after this will be coming! Also my comments are back... so thanks to everyone who commented and sorry if I've still missed you!**

 **Anyway, here's chapter 18**

Hunter bit his lip nervously. "Jemma," he said, looking at the young woman nervously as her eyes flitted around looking for Fitz. "Do you want to go to your room, the kitchen, somewhere private?"

Jemma looked at him, her face scrunched up in confusion, trying to figure out what he was saying. "Is everything, is Fitz okay?"

Hunter nodded. "Yeah, he is. He's on… on that mission."

The colour drained from her face. "He's away?"

Hunter nodded. "He'll be okay though. And back by this afternoon. Did Coulson not tell you?"

Jemma shook her head, hugging herself. "Fitz was supposed to meet me and Garner this morning, but he never showed up. Andrew said that he had been called somewhere, that he would be back later." It was obvious that she was trying to fight back the tears. "Lance," she whispered, shaking her head and voice breaking. "He's not supposed to be there. He doesn't do the field. Not anymore."

Tears were starting to well in her eyes, glistening in the light of the corridor.

And to make matter worse, agents were starting to stare, wondering what was happening.

"I know," he whispered back, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and leading her away. Leading her to somewhere away from all these prying eyes. "He'll be fine. You know he will. It's Fitz."

Ten minutes later, she was sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of tea held between her hands, fear running through her mind, anxiety flooding through her.

She lifted the mug, allowing herself to drink the tea. Hunter hadn't made a bad mug, it was good but no one would ever make a mug as good as Fitz did.

But this was a close second (or fifth, once you factored in both her parents and Fitz's mum).

"So you two," he said from his place by the stove, stirring the soup.

Jemma allowed herself a smile. "Thanks for keeping it secret." The tops of her ears burned red with embarrassment as she thought back to that morning. Back to when May had caught them in this very kitchen.

"It's no problem, though…" he trailed of, not knowing what to say. He hadn't exactly kept it a secret; the team had broken him and found out the secret.

She turned to face him, a smile on her face but one that didn't reach her eyes. "They know Lance." She used the sleeve of the oversized sweater that she was wearing to wipe away a stray tear. Hunter could hazard a guess that the sweater was once one that belonged to Fitz, now Jemma's; having been stolen or permanently borrowed from him.

(He also made a note to take the young Scott out to buy him new clothes. He would soon be lacking in them if Jemma's attire from the past number of days was any indication).

"May caught us this morning. In here."

Hunter raised a knowing eyebrow. "So everyone knows?"

She nodded. "I suppose. News passes around here quite quickly."

"It does," Hunter replied, agreeing with her but deciding that he best keep quiet about the betting pool (having to tell your friends and co-workers that you were betting on when they would get together was not one conversation that he was planning on having any time soon. Or at all if he was lucky). "Do you want a roll with your soup?"

Jemma thought for a minute. Bobbi, Andrew and Fitz had wanted her to start eating more, to start getting back into some form of routine with regular eating and a sleep pattern. She nodded. "Yes, please."

Hunter gave her a lopsided grin, and pulled the pot onto the sideboard, using a ladle to divide it into two bowls, before bringing that and a plate with the rolls on it over to the table. "Do you want me to get the butter?" she asked, pushing back her seat and starting to stand up when Hunter shook his head, making his way to the fridge.

She smiled, glad that Hunter was there, and helping to settle her nerves.

Lunch was amazing.

It could have been better.

One thing would have made it better.

Fitz.

She sat with another mug of tea between her hands, Hunter doing the dishes when May appeared in the door.

Jemma couldn't help but wonder if she had information about the mission, and if she did, it was impossible to tell if it was good news or bad news, her face was usually emotionless.

"Jemma."

The biochemist turned to the senior agent, reading her face, hoping to find something on it. But still, nothing.

"You're wanted in the hangar."

Before anyone could say anything else, Jemma was up from her seat and making her way down the corridor, and before long she was running to him.

To Fitz.

To her Fitz.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close.

Before she kissed him, because there was more than enough time in the world for that, she buried her head in his shoulder, allowing him to rub a reassuring hand up and down her back and to whisper soft promises into her ears.

She didn't even know she was crying until he pulled back and wiped away her tears before tilting her head so that he could kiss her.

Her arms remained wrapped around his waist as he did so, while his were still on her upper back, holding her there, supporting her there.

And now, they didn't care who saw them, they waited far too long for this.

They had waited most of their lives for this moment.

And they weren't going to let anything, or anyone, stop them from having this.

They weren't going to let the cosmos rip them apart again.

"Jems," he whispered to her once they had pulled apart, foreheads touching. Her hands were now on his chest, running up it, trying to find the best way to remove his shirt (for later of course), when he took them in his own, bringing them up to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on them.

"Yes?" came her reply, her voice barely audible, flustered even.

He smiled at her, placing another kiss on her hands. "I love you."

 **After 18 chapters, we are here. At the** ** _I love you_** **, took me long enough. And I am just in love with the idea of Hunter and Jemma as brother and sister (I have a number of Hunter & Jemma Brotp on AO3, just give me a shout if you want more!). Thanks so much for the love and sorry again for the delay. **


	19. Chapter 19

A number of weeks passed in between Fitz telling Jemma that he loved her to Jemma being cleared by medical and Andrew.

She was allowed back in the lab.

Her hand in his, they walked through the glass doors, and he turned to smile at her, watching her face light up.

She was like a child on Christmas morning, in a candy shop.

Seeing Jemma Simmons in the lab that morning, seeing her that happy, seeing her getting back to what she loved doing, it brought a massive smile to his face. That's all he wanted for her. To see her happy.

She turned to look at him, allowing her lips to dance across his. "Thank you."

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

"I just wish I had been there for…"

He cut her off with a kiss. "Jems," he said, his voice a soft whisper. "Remember what Andrew said?"

She nodded and remained silent though she looked like she wanted to protest. She was still having her sessions with Andrew, once every fortnight now, to help try her to try and come to terms with what she had been through and to remove that last ounce of guilt that was still weighing heavily on her.

"Thank you," she settled on instead, nestling herself into his side as he placed a kiss on her forehead. "It's perfect."

He took her further in, bringing her to her desk, where everything was perfect. She ran her fingers over the edge, not even a speck of dust there.

"Everything's still there, in the right place," he said as she reached for a pile of notes. "Even your sticky notes."

She abandoned the notes, turning back around to face her boyfriend, smiling at him.

"Thank you."

The next evening, she was curled up under the duvet, wearing one of his old hoodies and a pair of his (well worn) tartan pyjama bottoms, a mug of hot chocolate warming her.

He made his way in from the en-suite and climbed into the bed, wrapping his arm around her as she laid her head upon his shoulder. "I've a surprise for you," he whispered into her ear, his breath hot on her neck. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, wondering what he was on about. He reached and took the mug from her. She wanted to protest but he continued speaking. "Close your eyes, hold out your hands."

She obeyed, but left her eyes open a slit, hoping to see what Fitz had planned for her.

"Closed," he commanded, and she obeyed, not without a sigh.

Then there was something placed in her waiting hands.

Flat.

And it had some weight to it.

A tablet.

"Open your eyes."

She did and looked at the object in her hand.

It was a tablet, and it took her a moment to read what was on the screen.

"I've been talking to your mum the past few weeks, and your dad. We managed to find it. And I had some money, and knew you liked it so I brought it. We can move in within the next couple of days if you want, there's room for a lab in the basement, we can work from there if you want…" he trailed of at the end, sounding unsure of himself.

"Yes," she breathed, taking in the image on the tablet again. "Fitz," she said, looking at her boyfriend. "Let's do this."

He nodded. "Let's do it."

A few days later, their possession were packed into boxes, and loaded onto the QuinJet, ready for their flight to Perthshire.

Goodbyes were being said and tears were being shed.

The young couple stood hand in hand in the hangar, ready to embark on the next step of their lives, their relationship together.

The team, their friends, their _family_ , stood in front of them.

"Thank you sir," Jemma said, saying goodbye to the Director. "For everything."

He nodded. "It was no problem, Agent Simmons, Agent Fitz." He nodded at the Scot. "Thank you for all your work. Everything you have done for us. Take it easy before you start working again, okay?"

Fitz nodded back. "Thank you sir, for this opportunity."

"Agent May," Jemma said, passing a folded piece of paper with the name _Aurora_ written in an elegant font on it. "Would you please see that she gets it?"

May nodded, a small brief one, and took the piece of paper. Once Jemma had been taken to medical all those weeks, months, ago, she had contacted Hill who had managed to find somewhere for Aurora to train, to be able to use her powers.

Next up in the farewell parade was Trip, congratulating the couple and expressing that he'll miss them. Jemma tried to hand him back his knife, but he shook his head, declining, saying that she could keep it, a momentum to remember him by.

The conversation with Bobbi only brought more tears, and hugs, both Brits thanking her for everything that had happened and for everything that would come. If it hadn't been for her, none of this would be happening.

Bobbi shook her head, as Jemma wiped away the tears on her sleeve, bring Fitz's hand with her. "You two helped," the blonde explained. And before anyone could say anything else, Hunter had pulled them into a hug with him, complaining that they were leaving, saying they couldn't leave him alone, not as the only Brit.

When they were finally free of his grip, he picked up the wrapped box that was on the ground, a smirk on his face as he passed it to Simmons, telling her to open it.

It was a box of Mozzarella Dippers. He gave the typical Hunter grin. "Told you I would buy you some."

Jemma rolled her eyes, and joked that it took him long enough.

"Turbo," Mack said, extending his hand out to shake, after pushing Hunter out of the way before he went in for another hug.

Fitz returned the handshake and made light conversation.

Jemma just leaned into him. She was never as close to Mack as he was, and knew that he would want to be able to say his farewells.

Mack nodded at her, and she gave a small smile, each knowing what the other meant without having to say it aloud.

Finally, came Skye, throwing her arms around Jemma, pulling her close. The biochemist let go of Fitz's hand to embrace her friend. The second one that she had ever truly had.

"I'll miss you," Skye whispered in her ear. She was trying to fight back tears and failing.

"I will too, Skye," Jemma replied.

"You do know I'll be round once a week for dinner?" Skye asked, once they pulled apart.

"Of course," Jemma said, wiping away more tears, as if it was obvious. "I wouldn't have expected less."

Then Skye pulled Fitz in for a hug, telling him to stay safe, and to enjoy himself.

As they walked off, more goodbyes being exchanged, Skye called out one last thing to them.

"If you won't let Fitz get his monkey, at least get him a puppy. Stop him pestering us all!"

Jemma nodded.

"We're really doing this…" Jemma said, standing outside the cottage that she had fallen in love with when she was a child, with the man she had fallen in love with on the edge of adulthood.

Fitz nodded, arms wrapped around her, chin resting on the top of her head. "We're really doing this."

She spun around in his embrace, taking his cheek in her hand as she kissed him, the Scottish sunshine beating down on her neck.

Foreheads touching once broken apart, she whispered her three favourite words to him, as he stroked her cheek with his thumb, rough and calloused after so many years of working with his hands.

"You ready?" he asked.

She nodded against him as they walked hand in hand to their new home.

 **One more chapter left, like I can't believe it either. Sorry if this chapter is a bit mish mash in the last part, I just wanted the whole team to be able to say their goodbyes and to tie up the loose ends. Hope you enjoyed and the final chapter will be up soon!**


	20. Chapter 20

_**2 Years Later**_

The moon was large in the sky, shining down on the newlywed couple as they shared a kiss as husband and wife.

Breaking apart, they spun, leaning on the balcony, looking down at the estate below them.

His arms were wrapped around her waist and took her hands in his. He placed a kiss on her neck and she leaned into him, savouring the moment.

They were enjoying this moment of bliss, this moment of peace in the craziness that was their wedding day when they heard a knock on the glass doors behind them.

In unison, they spun and saw May standing there, reaching for the handle and pushing the door open.

"She was getting restless. She wanted you." May explained then passed Jemma their nine month old daughter, Peggy.

In one hand, the young girl had a stuffed monkey, and the other was in her mouth but as soon as she was back in her mother's arms, she wrapped her arms around her neck, the light weight of the stuffed toy bouncing of her back.

"Thank you," Jemma said, bouncing her daughter up and down as Peggy nestled her head into the space just below her mother's chin. "For everything you did today."

May nodded, not only to show that she understood, but to show that it was nothing. May got on really well with the young girl and when Jemma had asked someone to mind her for part of the day, May had immediately stepped up.

That wasn't to say the rest of the team hadn't helped. Skye, being Maid of Honour, had carried Peggy down the aisle, assisting her in her duties as flower girl (the petals had just been dumped into a pile halfway down the aisle).

"They're sending someone up in ten minutes to collect you, for the reception," May offered.

Fitz nodded. "Thanks."

May looked at them, gave a small smile, then turned and left, closing the doors behind her, giving the family some privacy.

"Pegs," Jemma said, her voice slightly shocked. "Has Hunter been feeding you brownies again?"

Peggy giggled, and removed her hands from around her mother's neck, clapping them. She gave an over exaggerated sigh and took the napkin that Fitz offered her from one of his many pockets in his suit (seriously, Jemma couldn't help but think that it was annoying that there were no pockets on her dress. Her husband was carrying everything for her in all those pockets; phone, money, emergency plasters, Peggy's stuffed giraffe, her second favourite. The thing that its head sticking out of his blazer pocket the entire day, but Jemma didn't mind), and used it to wipe of the chocolate from her face.

Peggy burst into even more giggling, as her mother tried to wipe away the chocolate.

Eventually Jemma got there, and felt her husband draw them both in when she was finished, placing a kiss on both their heads.

She smiled up at him, thinking back in time. Over two years ago, she thought that she had been handed a death sentence, never to get this.

Her life.

Her happy ending.

Her husband.

Her daughter.

Everything.

"Hey," Fitz whispered, wiping away a single tear that was making its way down her face. "It's okay."

She shook her head, still bouncing Peggy gently up and down. The young girl was now resting her head on her mother's shoulder having been hit by a sudden wave of tiredness, but still awake. "It's because I'm happy," she whispered back. "I wasn't expecting this either."

Fitz smiled at her, running his thumb up and down her cheek in a reassuring manner. "I know."

Jemma smiled wider than she had before, now rocking Peggy back and forth instead of bouncing her. "Hopefully she sleeps on the plane tomorrow."

Fitz laughed, shaking his head, knowing that Peggy would be awake for most of their flight to Seychelles. "She can watch films with me. You know how much she enjoys it."

"She does," Jemma began but found herself being cut off by his lips on hers.

Long.

Tender.

And full of so much love.

Promise.

Hopes for the future.

"Excuse me," a voice asked, looking around a half opened glass door. "They're waiting for you downstairs. Do you want someone to take…"

"No, it's okay," Jemma said.

The guy nodded. "If you'll follow me."

Fitz looked at his wife.

Jemma looked at her husband.

And headed back into the hotel and back down the stairs into the foyer and stood outside the door, waiting to go into the reception together.

Their hands found each other's and they looked at each other, and nodded, not needing to say anything.

They always knew what the other wanted, what the other thought.

There was feedback from a microphone, and then a voice spoke out.

"May I introduce the bride and groom; Dr and Dr FitzSimmons."

 **Okay, I know 9 months aren't supposed to eat brownies but still... if superheroes can exist one or two can't really be that bad, can they?**

 **And this is done. Over. And I nearly cried.**  
 **Multiple times writing this.**

 **This has been one of the longest stories that I have ever written and completed and it feels so weird that now, now its all done. And without everyone who followed, favorited left comments and read, I would never have been able to do it. You guys gave me so much support and all your reactions put a massive smile on my face.**

 **The plan may have changed multiple times during writing but I always knew how I was going to end it, like this. With their wedding. And we made it. We made it.**

 **For the last time, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.**


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